While the World is Full of Troubles
by BonniePrincess
Summary: After another tragic loss, George Weasley and his young son leave the wizarding world behind. Nine years later, George worries that his past may be coming back to haunt him…Post DH.
1. Prologue

**While the World is Full of Troubles **

_After another tragic loss, George Weasley and his young son leave the wizarding world behind. Nine years later, George worries that his past may be coming back to haunt him…(Post DH.)_

**Prologue**

Another rumble of thunder echoed outside the Burrow, temporarily breaking the silence that had enveloped the small crowed kitchen.

Nine members of the Weasley family sat grimily around the old wooden table, dismal expressions across their usually cheerful faces.

No one could believe it…no one wanted to believe it…

Hadn't they suffered enough already?

Why this…why now?

"Poor George…" Molly whispered, wiping her moist eyes with a tattered handkerchief. "He didn't deserve this. First Fred…" her voice quivered as she choked out the name of her lost son. "And now…"

Bill placed a comforting arm around his mother's shoulder and drew her in for a gentle hug. "I know…"

More silence filled the room as everyone once again became lost in their own thoughts.

"And poor Freddie." Hermione whispered as she cradled her own young son protectively. "Loosing his Mum like that at such a young age."

Ron nodded in agreement, his heart aching as he thought about his distraught brother and nephew. "Katie was such a good mum. They were happy…"

Overcome with grief, Molly broke out into quiet sobs and buried her face in her oldest son's chest. "My poor baby." She cried. "Loosing his twin, and then, when he had finally found happiness again, loosing his wife. It isn't fair."

"No, it isn't." Arthur agreed, starring stoically ahead. "Especially not today. The anniversary…"

Molly broke out into another bout of sobs as her husbands statement hung unfinished in the air.

Even though he hadn't actually said it, everyone present knew what Arthur was referring to.

It was May 23rd.

The Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

The Anniversary of Fred's death…and now, it seemed, of Katie's too.

This day had always been a difficult one for George- who had never (and would never) recovered from the loss of his twin on that fateful day. Although they were also filled with grief, none of the other Weasley's could even begin to imagine what George was going through right now…

Before the dismal conversation could continue, the kitchen door burst open and another member of the Weasley family entered the room, his red hair dripping with rain and his cloak covered with mud.

"Percy!" Molly exclaimed, turning to face the newest arrival. "Did you find him? Is he alright? Does he want to come stay here for a while?"

Sighing loudly, Percy shut the door behind him and carefully avoided his mother's gaze. It was evident from the pained look in his eyes that he was not the bearer of good news.

"I…I went to the shop." Percy began reluctantly. "He's boarded it up…and when I went to check the apartment upstairs, he was gone. They both were."

The other Weasley's exchanged panicked looks.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Arthur asked as he reached out to comfort his increasingly distraught wife.

Percy looked down at the floor, trying to choke back his own sobs. "The apartment was almost completely empty, and Freddie and George weren't there."

Molly gave another loud cry of anguish.

"He left a note." Percy continued grimly as he pulled a grubby piece of parchment out of his robes and handed it to his father with a shaking hand.

Arthur took it, and glanced down at the hastily scrawled message.

_I can't stay here anymore_.

It read, in George's unmistakable handwriting.

_We're leaving._

_Don't come looking for me._

_-George _

Arthur rubbed his tired eyes and placed the note down on the table, wondering if he would ever see his son and grandchild again….and knowing that life would never be complete until they returned.

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_A/N The rest of the chapters will be longer and will be George centric. This was just to establish the context. I'm bad with timelines, but this chapter takes place about eight years after DH (but before the epilogue). George married Katie Bell but, obviously, something tragic happened to her. _

_I'll mostly be sticking to the cannon- aside from the fact that (I think) JK Rowling said George continues working at the joke shop. In this story, he worked there for eight years but has now left. Other then that, all of the characters/the children mentioned in the epilogue will be the same. _

_The chapter and story titles are all taken from 'The Stolen Child'- my favourite poem by W.B. Yeats. _


	2. From a world more full of weeping

**Chapter One- "From a world more full of weeping"**

"…and then I was the last one left on my team!" Freddie exclaimed excitedly as he and his father approached the front door of their modest suburban home. "But I ran across to the other side and broke everyone else out of jail! It was awesome! The other team was so mad…and after another five minutes we had captured all of their flags. We won, dad, thanks to me!"

George chuckled at the ten year olds enthusiasm and gave his son a congratulatory pat on the back. "Well done Freddie." He said with a smile, placing the key in the lock and opening the front door.

"Capture the flag is my new favourite game." The boy continued as the two walked into the house.

"I thought floor hockey was your new favourite game." George remarked, pulling off his shoes and heading into the small kitchen for a glass of much needed water.

Freddie shrugged. "That was last week." He replied, throwing his backpack down in the hallway. "I changed my mind."

"Alright then." The older man said with another smile. "Now, why don't you go wash up for dinner? It should be ready in a few minutes- I just have to heat up the lasagne in the microwave."

"Awwww, lasagne again?" Freddie moaned, a pout forming on his flushed face. "We had that yesterday!"

George rolled his eyes. "Yes. And I don't want to hear any complaints. You know I haven't had much time lately, and I can't let you eat take away every night. Mrs. Johnson was nice enough to make some home cooked lasagne for us, and we are not going to let it go to waste." He paused, his expression softening slightly. "We'll go out for dinner tomorrow night, okay? It is a special day, after all."

"Fine." The boy muttered, somewhat appeased by the thought of the following days dinner. "I'll go wash up."

George nodded before turning his focus to the task at hand. He couldn't really blame Freddie for complaining- he knew that his cooking skills were nothing to be proud of and, although he did his best, dinner in their household was far from gourmet. Sighing, George pulled the leftover lasagne out of the refrigerator and placed it in the microwave. After pushing a few buttons, dinner was well on its way to being made.

Although he had been living this life for over nine years, there were still some muggle devices that never failed to amaze him. He wasn't exactly sure how microwaves worked, but they were certainly an amazing time saver- they could heat things almost as quickly as a spell. Muggles had an astounding ability to come up with gadgets that made life easier…he could almost understand why his father had always been so captivated by them…

_Dad…_

George closed his eyes for a moment as painful memories flashed through his mind. He usually tried not to think about his family…about the life he had left behind so many years ago…but it was hard to get through a day without letting his thoughts drift back to happier times. He missed them- all of them- so much…but he knew that leaving had been for the best. Life was hard without them, but it would have been even harder back home.

After Katie's mysterious disappearance, everything around him had filled him with unmanageable grief. Every inch of their apartment reminded him of her…of the beautiful woman who had rescued him from self destruction in the months following his brother's death…

He couldn't stand the pain, and he had done the only thing he could think of to make it more tolerable.

He had left everything behind.

His house.

His business.

His family.

His world…

He had moved himself and his son across the ocean- to a suburb of Toronto, Canada- and had learned how to live a muggle life.

It hadn't been an easy task at first. He had never really bothered to learn much about muggles, and his first few months proved to be quite the culture shock. He had thought about continuing to use magic- even seeking out the magical community in his new country- but he knew that it was too much of a risk. He was certain that his family would be looking for him and he knew that if he didn't want to be found, it was best to avoid other witches and wizards…and magic…all together.

After charming some documents (changing his name to 'George Wilson' and making his immigration appear legal), placing an anti-trace spell over himself and his son, and making some minor alterations to their appearances, George had stowed away his wand and begun his new life. As the months and years dragged by, he adjusted to muggle ways and managed to establish a comfortable existence for himself and his son.

Things were far from perfect, but he had a stable job (co-managing a muggle restaurant), his son was happy, and he was away from the place that held constant reminders of what he had lost.

He couldn't really ask for more in the present circumstance.

"Is it done?" Freddie asked as he entered the kitchen, his face and hands now scrubbed clean.

George snapped himself out of his contemplative gaze and nodded. "Almost." He replied. "Why don't you help me out by putting the bread and butter on the table? I'll get the drinks ready."

"Alright." The boy replied as he began to do as he was told.

George had to give his son credit. He may have been excitable and rambunctious at times, but he really was a good kid. Freddie almost always behaved, and rarely asked questions. There was an unspoken understanding in their house that George's past was not a topic of discussion.

Freddie knew that his father was English, and that his mother had died many years ago. He also knew that he was named for George's deceased twin brother, and that George was no longer in touch with the rest of his family.

He didn't know about magic, nor did he know about the circumstances under which George had left…but, in George's opinion, that was for the best. Magic only brought pain…and there was no need for Freddie to know the gruesome details of his mother's disappearance.

George was determined to shield him from that for as long as possible….

Freddie deserved an innocent carefree childhood.

Although, he feared, his control over this situation might soon collapse.

Freddie was turning eleven tomorrow…and every witch and wizard in Britain could tell you what that meant…

Had they been back home, George was certain that his son would receive an owl. He was technically a Weasley, after all, and had shown signs of magic from an early age (signs which, thankfully, George had always managed to cover up).

But they weren't back home, and George wasn't really sure what to expect. Would he receive his Hogwarts letter anyway? Would he receive a letter from the Canadian equivalent (George was fairly certain that there was a school hidden somewhere in the Rocky Mountains). Or would the day pass uneventfully and allow them to continue living as they had for the past nine years.

George hoped it was the last option. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he received a letter.

Could he really keep the truth away from his son?

Could he deny him a proper magical education?

And how would Freddie feel, knowing that his father had kept such a huge secret from him for all these years?

What if the letter _was_ from Hogwarts?

Would they have to go back to Britain…would he have to face his family?

George felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He didn't think he could handle a situation like that- but all he could do was continue to hope that Freddie, somehow, got overlooked…

"Dad?" A small voice asked beside him. "Are you alright? You don't look too well…"

George drew a deep breath. "I'm fine Freddie." He replied, forcing a smile. "Now come on…" he said, taking the lasagne out of the microwave and placing it down on the kitchen table. "Let's eat."

The boy did not looked convinced, and shot his father a perplexed look before taking his seat at the table. George gave them both a large helping of lasagne, a tight smile still on his face, and attempted to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"So, Freddie, where do you think you want to go for your special birthday dinner?" he asked, trying to sound cheerful.

He didn't want Freddie to sense his worry- he had to treat his sons eleventh birthday like any other.

"I dunno." The boy replied thoughtfully as he reluctantly began to pick at his dinner. "I'll see what I fee like tomorrow."

"Fair enough." George replied. "I'll be there to get you right at 3:15 tomorrow- I'm taking the afternoon off work so you don't have to go to aftercare on your birthday."

Freddie's face brightened somewhat at the news. He hated going to the after school programme, but since George wasn't able to pick him up until he finished work at five, he knew that he had little choice.

"And I was thinking…" George continued; glad to see his son smile. "That maybe we could go see a movie after. How about that new superhero film you've been talking about?"

"Really?" Freddie asked, his eyes lighting up. "I thought you said I wasn't allowed to see that one."

"Well," George replied. "That was when you were ten- but you'll be eleven tomorrow, and I think you can handle it."

"Awesome! Austin saw it this weekend and he said it was really cool! I can't wait to tell him that I get to see it too!"

George chuckled. "Did you want to bring a friend along tomorrow?" he asked. "I don't mind."

Much to his surprise, the boy shook his head. "No, I like when it's just you and me." He replied, taking another forkful of lasagne. "It's tradition, right?"

The man could not suppress a genuine grin this time. Although he sometimes wished that things were different, he loved that fact that he and his son were so close. They had only ever had each other, and as a result the bond they shared was undeniably strong.

"Right." He agreed. "Just you and me."

Although George wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring he was certain that- no matter what- he and Freddie would make it through…together.

He had so many bad memories…so many regrets…but Freddie had been his guiding light through it all.

His son had given him something to live for.

He had been his best friend…

And his source of happiness and pride.

They were Fred and George.

The eternal team.

And nothing would ever change that.

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a/n More to come if you reply!


	3. Unquiet dreams

**Chapter Two- "Unquiet dreams"**

_He enters the great hall and is instantly overwhelmed by the horrific sight before him. _

_There are bodies everywhere- once so full of life, now reduced to rotting piles of flesh and bone. _

_Order members._

_Death Eaters. _

_Students._

…_and Fred._

_It is this body- the one that could so easily be mistaken for his own- which suddenly captures all of his attention and grief. He feels sick…he feels so much overwhelming emotion that he is certain that he will soon become the next victim of this senseless war. _

_He can't possibly survive like this. _

_He can't go on without his other half…_

_Without Fred. _

_Fred was always the better of the two. The more outgoing twin- the brains behind the duo. Surely there must be some sort of mistake…Fred can't be gone. It should be George instead- he is dispensable. _

_The world can go on without George…but there is no way it can go on without Fred. It's going to stop spinning any moment now, he is sure of it. _

_He sees his mum and dad, crouching beside the body and sobbing into each others arms. Before he knows it, he's beside them- not sure how he got there. His body is numb and all he can hear is the sound of blood pumping in his ears. _

_His own heart continues to beat- he's not sure how this is possible. _

_How can life go on after this?_

_How can his life go on? _

…_then suddenly, he sees her. _

_And he knows that there is still hope…still something to live for. _

_The Great Hall fades away, and he finds himself in the apartment above the shop, kissing Katie with a love and passion he didn't think he possessed. _

_She pulls him over to the bed, and seductively begins to undo the buttons on his shirt…_

"_Merlin, you're beautiful…" he mutters._

_He never thought he would end up married to his former team mate, but he is so happy that he is…beautiful Katie Bell…she is the only one that can save him from a lifetime of misery and pain… _

"_Never leave me." He whispers, his body aching to get even closer to her. _

_He loves her._

_So much._

_But she pulls away suddenly, her striking green eyes full of terror. "I'm sorry." She replies. _

_He tries to hold her tighter, but she fades away before his eyes. _

_Gone in an instant..._

…_just like Fred._

_He sits up- afraid, panicked- and looks around the dark room, hoping to catch a glimpse of her._

_All he can see is blood…_

George awoke with a start, covered in sweat and gasping for air. For a brief moment he thought he was back in his room in Diagon Alley, but as he came to his senses he realized that this was impossible.

Katie has been gone for a long time, and his current home is far away from everything he once held dear.

It was all a dream…

With a loud sigh, George glanced over at the digital clock- it was eleven forty-nine, but- after only a few short hours of sleep- he felt fully awake. Knowing that he wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon, George pulled himself out of bed and began to walk towards the kitchen.

He hadn't had a dream like that for a very long time. Two years at least...

It had been so vivid…so real…

Just like before.

After Katie's death (and Fred's for that matter), such dreams had been a regular occurrence. For several months following both of these traumatic events, George would find himself frequently awoken by the memories of the gruesome and disturbing scenes he had witnessed on the two worst nights of his life.

Over time, however, they had begun to fade- and he had been foolish enough to hope that they had ended for good.

But, he supposed, he should have known better. No matter how hard he tried, or how far he ran, he would never be able to escape his memories…

With another loud sigh, George plugged in the kettle and began to fix himself a cup of camomile tea. Tea almost always helped calm his nerves, and he hoped that tonight would be no exception.

As he waited patiently for it to boil, he couldn't help but think about of his mum's hot chocolate. With some combination of magic and motherly love, she had always managed to make it made it just right- and had always been ready with a steaming mug of it when her family needed it most.

He really missed it at times like these.

…and he really missed _her _at times like these too.

Although Molly had given him and Fred many a lecture during their childhoods, there was never any doubt that she loved them both dearly. She had been almost as inconsolable as George after Fred had died- and had only managed to stay strong in George's presence because she knew that her motherly duty to comfort her son was a bigger priority then her own painful grief. He had been grateful for her support during those rough couple of months- and he sometimes wondered if he should have turned to her comfort again during his second big tragedy. Maybe the comfort of his mother's arms, and a large cup of hot coca, would have made those horrible nights a bit more bearable.

In his grief-stricken state, however, he had been unable to contemplate facing his family. He hadn't wanted their pity, and he couldn't bear the thought of staying in a place he now associated with so much pain.

So he had left.

Without a trace.

Not knowing if he would ever return.

His original intent was to just spend a few years away- to get a fresh start and come to terms with what had happened. But as the days and months dragged on, going home began to seem like less and less of an option.

Instead of pity, he now feared his families' anger, and he wasn't ready to face that yet.

He wasn't sure if he ever would be.

When he thought about it, George knew that he was being a prat. He had now been away far longer then ever Percy had, and he could not help but feel like a bit of a traitor. He knew that the family probably missed him and Freddie. And he felt horrible for denying Freddie a large and loving family.

He probably had several more cousins by now (when George had left, he had already had five nieces and nephews)- two of which, Hugo and Lily, were Freddie's age and set to start Hogwarts in the fall.

His heart sank as he thought about all of the fun his son would be missing- cheering on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with his cousins, looking for secret passages in the castle, visiting the shops in Hogsmede…and, of course, living up to his namesake by causing general mischief and mayhem.

Could he really deny him that?

He knew that the easy answer was a simple 'yes'. He had kept the big secret for so long that telling Freddie now would surely cause a lot of drama. So would the shock of relocating their lives to an entirely different world in an entirely different country…

Staying here, and carrying on as usual, was definitely easier…

But he wasn't convinced that it was necessarily right.

Sighing, George unplugged the kettle and poured the water over the tea bag, enjoying the rich aroma of the tea as it wafted up to his nose. He took a cautious sip and, upon discovering that it was much too hot, moved over towards the sink to add a bit of cold water.

Once satisfied that he had made the beverage a drinkable temperature, George took another sip.

It certainly wasn't his mum's hot chocolate, but it did help.

He already felt slightly calmer.

Sighing again, George glanced out the dark window above the sink. The small backyard appeared calm- save the slight rustling of trees. It wasn't much- especially compared to the large and wild backyard he had grown up with, but it was now home, and George- despite his worries- was reasonably content.

He could have chosen a different path, but he hadn't. This was where he was now, and dwelling on the 'what ifs' wouldn't do any good.

He had to keep pushing forward.

He had to live with his decisions…

The clock in the entrance hall began to chime, distracting George from his thoughts.

One…two…three…four…

It was midnight, he realized.

Five…six…seven…eight…

The noise echoed gently through the quiet kitchen.

Nine…Ten…Eleven...

Twelve.

"Happy Birthday Freddie." George muttered as the final chime sounded.

For a moment, he half expected to see a barrage or owls pounding at the windows, trying to deliver envelopes inscribed with his son's name. But when the first minute passed, and no such sight appeared, George gave a small smile.

They were well hidden.

The owl wasn't going to come.

And he would be allowed to avoid 'the big talk' for at least a while longer.

Deciding to take his tea over to the table, George turned around and took a few steps towards his new destination. Before he could reach the nearest chair, however, his trek was interrupted.

A loud 'pop' echoed in the kitchen, breaking the blissful silence and causing George to drop his mug in shock.

He hardly noticed as the ceramic shattered on the hard floor, sending hot tea splashing up his ankles. He was too busy looking at the source of the sudden noise…

"R…Ron?" He stuttered in disbelief.

His brother crossed his arms and gave him a stony look.

"Hello George." He replied. "It's been a long time…"


	4. then you can understand

_Well, I'm feeling inspired, so here is more. Thanks to all of those who reviewed the last one so quickly!_

**Chapter Three- "…then you can understand"**

George didn't know what to do.

After nine long years, his younger brother had just apparated into his kitchen…and he didn't look amused.

George felt a strange mixture of feelings swirling around inside of him. Somehow, be was terrified, relieved, ecstatic and angry all at the same time.

Part of him wanted to give the other man a big hug…but the other part was tempted to run up the stairs, grab his wand, and get himself and his son as far away as possible.

For the moment, however, George was too shocked to move- or even speak- so neither option seemed immediately probable.

"I knew you wanted to get away, but I never thought you'd leave the bloody country." Ron muttered, his eyes darting around the small kitchen. "I mean really George…was moving across the ocean _really _necessary? Did you hate us _that_ much?"

George blinked, still overcome by shock.

"I…I…" he stuttered, trying to get his racing brain to form a logical sentence. "I don't hate you." He said quietly, surprised by what his brother had said. This had never been about disliking his family- it had been about regaining his sanity and starting over, the only way he knew how. Leaving his family had pained him every day since his departure.

"Fooled me." Ron shot back, his blue eyes suddenly flashing with years of pent up anger. "Do you have any idea what you did to the family? What you did to Mum!? Merlin, George, she had already lost one son and then you go off and disappear. She was heartbroken." He paused before adding. "We all were."

For a moment, George considered apologising for his actions- he had, after all, been insensitive for leaving like that.

But instead, his Weasley temper got the best of him.

"Well excuse me if I wasn't really focused on your feelings at the time, Ron." He retorted, his voice louder then he had intended. "But my wife that had been murdered and I did the only thing that felt right. You have _no _idea what I was going though…first Fred, then Katie…I couldn't stay there anymore. If you want to be mad at me, then fine- I don't bloody care."

Ron hesitated before replying, and George could tell that his impassioned words had made an impact. "Look…George, you're right, I don't understand what you were going though." He paused and ran a hand through his flaming red hair. "But you also don't know what _we_ went through when you left. All of these years with no word…we couldn't even be sure if you and Freddie were _alive_. We searched for so long…"

A sudden thought occurred to George. "But then…how are you here now? How did you find us?"

Ron stuck his hand into the pocket of his long black robes and pulled out a think envelope.

The very envelope George had been fearing for years…

Realization struck.

"Freddie." George whispered, his eyes glued to the envelope that would soon change everything. "His name appeared on the Hogwarts list today, didn't it? And it told you where to find us…"

Ron nodded. "Not even the best anti-detection wards can thwart such ancient magic. We've all been waiting for this day for so long. It's what has kept us going all of these years. We knew that if we couldn't find you ourselves, the list would do it for us when Freddie turned eleven."

Sighing, George lowered his shaking body onto the nearest kitchen chair, trying to take everything in.

It was really happening.

Deep down, he had always known that his past would catch up with him one day.

It would have been foolish to think otherwise…

"So, he is definitely a wizard then." George muttered.

His brother shot him a confused look. "Of course he's a wizard, George." He replied. "You're a wizard, and his mother was a witch. Running away doesn't change that."

The older of the two nodded. He wasn't surprised, of course, but he supposed that a part of him had always held out hope…

…hope that his son would be miraculously spared from all of the pain and loss that the magical world could bring. Annoying and inconvenient as it was sometimes, a muggle existence was certainly easier.

"I know." He replied quietly, placing his head in his hands. "Merlin, what am I going to do now?" he asked, more to himself then to Ron. "How can I possibly tell him."

Ron's eyes widened. "Tell him…?" He asked. "Does that mean…"

But before he could continue, the sound of shuffling feet from the hallway distracted both men from their conversation. George instantly shot up from his chair, desperately gesturing for his brother to duck into the dark entrance way and out of sight.

Unfortunately, Ron refused to comply.

"Dad?" a small, tired voice asked from the hallway. "Is that you?"

George cleared his throat. Terrified of what was to come next.

He couldn't hide any longer…

"Yes. It's me." He replied.

Freddie sighed with relief and took a step into the kitchen. For a moment, he simply appeared to be sleepy, but as he caught sight of the tall stranger with flaming red hair standing beside his father, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Dad…" he began with a questioning tone. "Who is that?"

Ron shot a look at George. "You never even told him about us, did you? Never showed him a picture…"

George tried his best to give Ron a 'shut the bloody hell up' look before turning to address his son.

He wasn't sure what route to take.

He could be honest right now…he could continue the lie for one more night and break it to him more tactfully in the morning…or he could (by some miracle) get Ron to leave and forget this night ever happened…

He decided to try for either option two or three.

"Errr….Freddie." he began nervously. "This is a friend of mine. He was in town and stopped by for a visit."

Ron scoffed and George elbowed him as discreetly as possible in the ribs.

Freddie looked perplexed.

"Is he from England too?" the boy asked, looking back and forth between his father and the new arrival. "It sounded like it."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but George cut him off before he could.

"Yes, he is." He replied. "We know each other from…err…school."

"Oh." Freddie stated, still looking perplexed. This was the first time he had ever met anyone from his fathers 'old life', and he was itching to find out what he could.

Like why this man was dressed so strangely, for starters…

"Speaking of school…" Ron began, reaching back into his robes to retrieve the envelope.

Catching on quickly, George grabbed his brother's arm, attempting to stop him.

"Ron…no…don't." He grunted as he wrestled against his younger, but taller, brother.

Ron refused to relent. "Oh honestly!" he exclaimed, trying to hold George back. "You knew it was coming…stop being so bloody ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous!" he retorted. "You can't just barge in here after nine years and ruin everything I've worked for. I am his father and I will decide if he gets the letter or not."

"IF!" Ron shouted, both shocked and angered by his brother's statement. "There is no 'if' involved here. He is a Weasley, and our family has been attending Hogwarts since it was founded. You can't deny your son his ancestral rights just because you want to denounce your past." He paused, trying again to shake George off of his arm. "Don't make me hex you- because if you keep this up, I will have little choice."

George was about to reply, but the sight of his sons face distracted him from the argument. In the heat of the moment, he had almost forgotten that Freddie was there.

The boy had taken a few steps back towards the doorway, his eyes wide as he watched the exchange between his father and the other man.

"_Our_ family? Weasley? Hogwarts? Hex?" he squeaked, looking both scared and confused. "Dad, what is he talking about? What is going on?"

George felt an icy fear wash over him.

Freddie had heard too much…

He couldn't keep up the charade.

"Look, Freddie…" he began reluctantly, finally releasing his brother. "I want you to know that I am really, _really_ sorry."

The boy's confusion did not abate.

"I also want you to know, that everything I did, I did to protect you. All I ever wanted was for you to have the best life possible. I didn't tell you certain things because I thought it was for the best. I hope that, in time, you'll be able to forgive me."

Freddie nodded, not sure what this sudden plea had to do with his father's strange friend and their strange conversation.

George drew a shaky breath and knelt down in front of his son, still not sure what he wanted to say. "Ron isn't just a friend of mine from school." He began slowly. "He's my little brother- your uncle."

The boy looked over at the taller man, now seeing at him in a different light.

_His uncle!?_

He had never met any of his dad's family- he wasn't even sure how many siblings he had- and now one of them was standing right here in front of him. This was so…unexpected, and he couldn't help but wonder what had brought his uncle here on this particular night.

…and why his father hadn't wanted him to know who he was.

"Wow…" Freddie muttered, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

He had always wanted to get to know the rest of his family- maybe he would finally have a chance.

"You don't look too much alike." He noted, looking back and forth between them.

"No, not at the moment at least." Ron muttered, glaring at George's now non-descript brown hair and freckle-less skin. "I was meaning to ask you about that…"

George sighed. "I'll get to that later." He muttered back, before turning to once again address his son.

"That's not the only thing…" he began again, unsure of how he was going to choke out the necessary words. "You see…Ron is here because today…because you're…I'm…" he paused. "What I'm trying to say is, that….you're…we're…"

He trailed off and drew another deep breath.

He couldn't do it.

With one more sentence, everything would change…

Getting impatient and sensing that this approach wasn't going to get them anywhere, Ron decided to cut in.

"What your dad is trying to say Freddie, is that today is a very special day, and that is why I came to give you this." He pulled the dreaded envelope out of his robes and handed it to the boy.

George fought the urge to rip it out of his hands.

But he knew that he couldn't. He knew that this had to happen.

Freddie looked down at the envelope.

_Frederick Gideon Weasley_

_The red and gold bedroom._

_North York, Canada_

It read, in elaborate green script.

"Weasley?" he asked, confused. "But our last name is Wilson…"

Ron scoffed, and George shook his head.

"No, it's Weasley." George whispered.

Freddie paused for a moment to take this new fact in. "Why would you lie about that, Dad?" he asked, a hint of betrayal shining in his eyes. "Why would you change it?"

"Open the letter." George replied sombrely. "Then I promise I'll explain everything."

Suddenly feeling slightly apprehensive, Freddie broke the seal and pulled out several pieces of thick paper. He looked down at the one on top, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Weasley, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_


	5. Come Away

**Chapter Four "Come Away"**

Freddie felt his heart rate increase. This had to be a joke…it wasn't possible.

He quickly began to read through the rest of the letter.

…_platform 9 ¾_

… _September 1__st_

…_Standard Book of Spells…_

…_pewter cauldron…_

Suddenly feeling very weak in the knees, Freddie stumbled back towards the wall- leaning against it for support. He was certain that he wouldn't have been able to remain standing without it.

This letter _couldn't_ be real.

Magic wasn't real, and he was certainly not a wizard.

It was impossible…

…wasn't it?

"Dad," He began slowly, his voice full of uncertainty. "What is this? What does it mean?" he paused before adding hopefully "Is it some sort of joke?"

He watched as his father and uncle exchanged a look- he could tell by the expressions on their faces that this was no laughing matter. They were both taking this extremely seriously…

George sighed, his eyes conveying his state of inner turmoil. "Look…Freddie…" he started, his voice much quieter then usual. "I know that it wasn't right of me to keep this from you, and I know that I should have told you a very long time ago…" he paused, looking reluctant to continue. "But this isn't a joke. The letter is real."

Freddie hesitated, and looked down at the unbelievable letter for a few more seconds before responding. "So then I'm a…a…"

"…a wizard?" Ron cut in. "Yes, you are."

The boy looked over at his uncle, his eyes wide with shock. Reading it was one thing, but hearing someone say it out loud made it even more real. Could he- Freddie Wilson…or rather…Weasley, be a real live wand waving _wizard_? It was both an exhilarating and terrifying thought.

This would change everything…

The future suddenly seemed very uncertain.

His head was swirling with hundreds of thoughts and questions. He needed to know more…he needed to be absolutely sure…

"You've always known…" he began again, turning his attention from one brother to the other. "You've always known, and you never told me…"

His father looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "Yes, I knew." He said quietly. "Although I had hoped- until tonight- that perhaps it wasn't true. I wanted to keep you away from the wizarding world…from my world…because it had caused me so much pain. I only ever wanted to protect you…"

"_Your_ world…" Freddie stated, his eyes- if possible- growing even wider. "Then that means that you're…"

George nodded solemnly, anticipating the end of his son's statement. "Yes." He said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm a wizard…and that's why I knew you would be too- it's kind of…hereditary."

Using his free hand to further steady himself against the wall, Freddie drew several deep breaths and tried to absorb what he had just been told.

He was a wizard…his father was a wizard. It was also logical to conclude that his newly discovered uncle was one too (that would certainly explain the strange attire). There was a whole other 'wizarding' world out there that he had never noticed, and that his father had never bothered to tell him about.

It all seemed completely insane…and yet, deep down, he somehow knew that it was true.

"Show me." He demanded, his voice still quaking with shock. "I need to be certain. I need to know that I'm not just going crazy…"

Giving him a sympathic smile, Ron nodded and pulled a wooden stick out from the pocket of his robes. "This is a wand." He explained, holding out from Freddie to see. "It is used to help magical folk channel their magic- every witch and wizard has one."

The boy examined the rather unimpressive looking object- it didn't look like much more then a polished tree branch, and he couldn't help but raise a sceptical eyebrow.

"Alright then…" he said, trying to sound more composed then he felt. "Show me how it works."

Ron looked over at George and offered him his wand. "Would you like to do the honours?" he asked.

George looked down at the object, a mixture of fear and longing on his face.

It had been so long since he'd used a wand.

So long since he'd felt the magic flow through him…

Too long, perhaps.

"I can't." He replied, trying to push back his brother's hand. "I swore I'd never…"

"Things change." Ron cut in, refusing to relent. "You_ need_ to do this George. I know you're scared, and I know that it has been awhile…but its time to come back. It's time to be _you_ again."

"I'm still me." George snapped, a flash of anger darting through his eyes. "I am not defined by my magic. I have gotten by just fine without it."

The younger brother dropped his wand arm and returned the glare. "This is about more then just magic, George!" He began, his voice tinted with frustration. His pent up thoughts suddenly began to flow. "You've been running and hiding for too long. You've lost sight of who you are- for Merlin's sake; you don't even _look_ like yourself anymore. You've completely turned your back on everything you once were."

"Maybe that's because the 'real' George- the one you remember- died along with Fred and Katie!" George retorted, his voice growing steadily louder. "Maybe being that George didn't feel right anymore, and maybe starting over and trying to forget was the only way I could make myself carry on…"

The two brothers locked eyes for a moment- both attempting to make the other to relent. Neither showed any signs of giving in, however, and Ron decided to continue their heated discussion.

"I know you lost a lot George." He replied "But I also know that the old George is still in there somewhere. I refuse to believe otherwise…"

"Well, believe it." George shot back. "I'm just boring old muggle George now- and life was perfectly fine until you showed up." He paused. "Why don't you just bugger off before you make things worse then they already are? I can handle this on my own."

Ron shook his head stubbornly. "No." he replied. "I don't think so. You've played your little game for long enough-its time for someone to bring you back to reality. You are a Weasley, and your place is with _your_ family in _your_ world."

"I am _not_ one of you anymore!" George shouted forcefully, his face flushed with anger and his words echoing in the small dark kitchen.

For a moment, Ron simply looked stunned by this proclamation. He opened and closed his mouth several times, obviously unsure of how to respond.

Silence hung heavy in the air until Ron, realizing that the time for words had passed, made a sudden gesture with his wand. He muttered a quiet incantation, and a flash of light instantly shot out from the tip, hitting George square in the chest and enveloping him in a red glow.

Freddie, who had remained quiet and unnoticed during the argument, gasped at the sight and gave a worried cry of "Dad!" before the glow disappeared in a final blinding flash.

As soon as his eyesight cleared, the boy gave another gasp- it was instantly clear what his uncle had done- and it was equally clear that Ron and George were, in fact, related.

"Woah…" Freddie muttered as he looked at his dad in disbelief.

The non-descript brown hair that Freddie was accustomed to seeing on his fathers head was now a flaming shade of red, and his skin was now paler and covered in light brown freckles. He didn't look entirely different- his face was still completely recognisable and his frame was unchanged- but the hair and skin did give the man a shockingly altered look.

Despite his surprise at the abruptness of the alterations, Freddie had to admit that it somehow fit. His father looked more…alive…this way. There was no question that the new tones suited him.

"What did you do me?" George demanded, turning to his now smug brother.

Ron merely smiled. "See for yourself." He replied, gesturing towards small mirror that was hung on the wall behind George.

The older man turned around quickly, and his mouth opened in shock as he caught sight of his new…or rather, his old…reflection.

"Not 'one of us', eh?" Ron said with a grin. "You certainly look like a Weasley to me…"

George turned back to face his brother, his brown eyes narrowed in anger. "Give me your wand." He demanded sternly. "I am going to fix this, and then you are going to get the bloody hell out of my house."

Freddie flinched, knowing that it would not be wise to question his father in this state, but Ron was less easily intimidated. Shaking his head, the tall wizard placed his wand securely back in his robes and made himself comfortable on one of the kitchen chairs.

"No, I don't think so." He replied complacently. "I came here to bring both of you back to where you belong, and I am not leaving until you agree to come with me."

"Well, I guess you won't be leaving then." George shot back.

Ron shrugged. "Fine by me." He paused and pointedly turned away from his brother. "Now, Freddie." He began again. "I'm sure you must have a million questions - and since_ someone_ obviously isn't in a state to answer them, please don't hesitate to ask me instead."

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but George interjected before he could. "Freddie, don't." he said sternly. "Please go to your room- your Uncle and I need to have a little chat. You and I can discuss things in the morning."

Ron shook his head. "Don't listen to him." He said, before glaring back at George and pulling his wand back out of his robes. "I will not hesitate to use the full body bind curse on you." Ron warned, his wand pointed at his brother and his tone indicating that he was dead serious. "So I suggest that you sit down and let me start explaining things."

Looking furious, but also defeated, George glared back before choosing to seat himself on another one of the kitchen chairs.

He knew he had lost the battle…

Like it or not, he was useless against his brother without his wand.

"Alright then." Ron tried again, giving his nephew a reassuring smile. "Ask away."

Freddie nodded, and after giving his father a 'sorry, but I have to know' look he began to speak. "So…is that what dad really looks like?" he asked, choosing to begin with one of his smaller questions.

Ron nodded. "Yes. The Weasley family is notorious for having red hair and freckles. I'm guessing that is why your father choose to hide those two features- he knew we'd be looking for him, and he knew that was what made him most recognisable."

"Well…then what about me?" the boy continued, his voice quieter then before. He was used to the way he looked now…and he was both excited and afraid to find out if what he had always known was the _true_ him or not.

Smiling, Ron pulled a tattered photograph out of his pocket and handed it to Freddie.

Glancing down at it, Freddie saw an image of his father holding a small baby with flaming red hair.

"That's you." Ron explained, pointing at the baby. "A true Weasley through and through." He paused. "I can take off the glamour charm anytime you want- whenever you're ready."

Freddie nodded, and was about to respond when he noticed something else about the photograph.

It had _moved_…

"Is…did it…" he tried to ask.

"Did it what?"

The boy drew a deep breath "Did that photograph just move?"

Ron chuckled and placed it back inside his pocket. "Oh, right. You haven't seen a wizarding photograph before." he commented. "Your muggle ones don't move, do they?"

"Er…no, they don't." Freddie replied. "And what is a muggle exactly?" He had heard his father and uncle throw the term around several times that night, but had not yet had a chance to find out what it meant.

"Muggles are what we call non-magic folk." Ron said.

"Oh." He replied. "So, is everyone in your…I mean, our…family magical?"

His uncle nodded. "Pretty much. Our family is one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain." He said with a hint of pride. "The line goes back at least a thousand years, perhaps more."

"And what about…" Freddie began hesitantly. He chanced a glance at his father, knowing that he shouldn't bring this up. "What about my mom? Was she magical?"

Freddie saw his father tense, but he was thankful that he did not protest.

"Yes, she was." Ron replied. "Katie was a brilliant witch- she and your dad met at Hogwarts, in fact."

Grateful to absorb this new information, but knowing that the subject of his mother was not something to be explored in his father's presence, Freddie decided to change the subject. Perhaps he could talk to his uncle about her later, and see what else he knew.

"So what do you know about Hogwarts then?" the boy asked, his mind now drifting back to the letter that had started it all. "If it's real, then why don't people know about it? Where is it? Is it hidden? Did you go there?"

Ron chuckled at his nephew's frantic string of questions. "I know plenty about Hogwarts." He replied. "I did go to school there- so did your dad of course…every witch and wizard in Britain goes to Hogwarts. Muggles don't know about it because it is hidden in a remote area of the Scottish highlands, and has several muggle repelling charms on it to keep them away." He paused and began rummaging around in his pockets once again. "And that reminds me…" he muttered as he pulled out a small grubby looking pouch. "I brought you a birthday present."

Freddie watched with curiosity as his uncle reached into the pouch (which, amazingly, seemed to accommodate his rather large hand) and pulled out too large packages that- logically speaking- should not have been able to fit inside the small bag.

Not giving the pouch a second thought, Ron handed his nephew the two packages. "Happy Birthday." He said with a smile. "One is from me, and the other is from my wife- she insisted that I give it to you."

Suddenly excited to see what the packages contained, Freddie eagerly ripped them open. In the first, he found a strange assortment of candy- Chocolate Frogs, Every Flavour Beans…and a bunch of other brands he had never heard of- and in the second, he found a large book with the words "Hogwarts, A History" embossed on the front cover.

"I've never been too fond of that book." Ron admitted as Freddie looked it over. "But my wife- Hermione- was raised in the muggle world and insists that this is the essential guide to anyone unfamiliar with Hogwarts."

Freddie took a quick glance through a few of the pages, anxious to start reading it. Despite Ron's less then enthusiastic description, it did look rather useful.

"Thanks." He said, grinning up at his uncle. "These are great."

"No problem." Ron replied.

Closing the book and placing it on the table beside him, Freddie was struck by another question. "So, do most kids at Hogwarts already know a lot about magic?" he asked, small knot of worry forming in his stomach. "Am I going to be behind?"

Much to his relief, Ron shook his head. "No, don't worry. Quite a few kids are muggle born- meaning that they are witches and wizards born to muggle parents. It really isn't a disadvantage- everyone catches up quite quickly."

"Good." Freddie replied before adding. "This is going to be so incredibly cool. I can't wait to tell my friends- if I lean some tricks, can I show them?"

"I'm sorry Freddie, but you can't." his uncle replied. "There are secrecy laws that have to be upheld- muggles aren't allowed to find out about us, and we're not allowed to do magic when muggles are around."

The boy frowned. "Why does everything have to be kept a secret?" he asked. "I mean, some muggles must know about Hogwarts if they send their kids there…why don't you just let everyone know? It's not like magic is a bad thing…right? Why can't we share it?"

Ron sighed and ran his hand through his flaming red hair. "Those are complicated questions, Freddie." He replied. "And I can't really tell you why things are the way they are. But the worlds have always been separate, and I don't think people on either side would be comfortable if that changed any time soon. They're just too different."

"They can't be _that_ different." Freddie maintained. "Dad moved from the wizarding world to the normal world and he's fine."

There was a brief pause before George, who had remained reluctantly silent for the past several minutes, finally pitched in.

"It wasn't easy, Freddie." George admitted sombrely. "It took me years to get used to muggle life- and quite honestly, there are still things about it that seem strange to me." He hesitated before reluctantly adding. "As much as I like to pretend, I know I'll never be comfortable with everything here."

Freddie felt the knot of worry begin to build up inside of him again.

If his dad had found it difficult to adjust to the muggle world, then wouldn't he find it just as difficult to adjust to the wizarding world?

He would have to leave behind his school, his friends…everything he had ever known…in exchange for a new life in a new world that he knew nothing about.

Suddenly, the situation didn't seem quite so exciting…

"But then, what if I never get used to your world?" He asked, voicing his worries out loud. "I grew up here, without magic. What if I can't get used to being a wizard? What if I don't like Hogwarts? Or Britain, for that matter? What if…"

"You will be fine." Ron cut in with a reassuring smile. "The wizarding world_ is_ your world. You were born there, you have a loving family waiting for you there…you _belong _there…trust me, it will feel more like home then this ever could."

Freddie nodded, trying to convince himself that his uncle was right…

He wanted it to be true.

He wanted to believe…

But a nagging voice in the back of his head wasn't so sure that adjusting would be as easy as his uncle claimed.

Although, he supposed, there was only one way to find out…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N Tell me what you thought, and I shall continue.

Thanks to everyone that reviewed last time!

(JaceDamian23- no, this is not slash. Ron and George are just the main characters (or at least, the main characters that are available to choose from). This story won't have much romance- and it certainly won't have Weasleycest (not that I dislike it ;) )


	6. The Moon has Taken Flight

**Chapter Five- "The Moon has Taken Flight"**

George stared out of the kitchen window, his eyes fixed on the rising sun. The sky was so beautiful- streaks of red and orange, intermingling with the increasing patches of yellow and blue. He wished that he could stand in this spot for hours, taking in the sights, and letting his mind drift away from his complicated reality.

Unfortunately, he knew that he would be allowed no such luxury.

"Good morning George." Ron said as he entered the kitchen, his voice still groggy from sleep.

True to his word, his younger brother had refused to go home without them, and had insisted on spending the night crammed uncomfortably on the couch. Although, George supposed, since the 'night' had only ended up consisting of about three hours (by the time they had finished answering Freddie's questions and got him off to bed), Ron wouldn't have too many sore muscles to deal with.

"Morning." George mumbled back, his eyes still directed out the window.

He wasn't really in the mood to talk. There were still too many things he had to sort out for himself. Last night had brought up so many new issues- so many choices- and he still didn't know what approach to take.

Freddie knew everything now, and had taken it well all things considered. The boy seemed anxious to meet the rest of the family, and Ron had insisted that he was taking them both 'home' as soon as possible. As the night had progressed, George had reluctantly offered up more information (the cat was clearly out of the bag, and as much as he didn't want to, he knew that answering Freddie's questions wouldn't make things worse then they already were), and as he had discussed the world he had left behind, he found himself unable to repress a growing sense of longing.

As much as he hated to admit it, he did miss the wizarding world. Muggle life had never felt quite right, and going back was a temping- albeit terrifying- thought.

He just wasn't sure if he could bring himself to actually do it…to face everyone…after so many years away…

"Is Freddie still asleep?" Ron asked as he began his attempt to make a cup of tea with George's muggle kettle. George turned and nodded, watching with amusement as Ron gave the electric kettle a frustrated shake and stared down confusedly at the plug. "Stupid buggering muggle contraption…" he muttered shaking it again.

George could not repress a smile. "Here, let me do it." he said, picking up the kettle and plugging it into the nearest socket. "See…it's not so bad once you get used to it."

"How long does it take to boil?" Ron asked, impressed by his brother's ease with muggle objects.

"About a thirty seconds." George replied. "Depending on how much water you put in it."

"Thirty seconds! Wow…" the younger of the two began with awe. "Muggles really do get by okay without magic, don't they? Not as fast as a heating charm, but still…"

George smiled again, amused by his brothers reaction. It reminded him of his first encounter with similar muggle appliances…they had once seemed to incredibly strange… they still did sometimes.

"You should bring this thing back home and give it to dad." Ron continued as he poured the now-hot water over his tea bag. "He'll love it."

George flinched.

_Home_…

Going back still seemed impossible. Seeing mum and dad…being at the Burrow…

It all felt like a distant and unobtainable memory now…

"Yeah, maybe…" he muttered, wondering if there was any way to convince Ron that he needed a bit more time to decide where his 'home' truly was. "About that…"

Ron raised a bright red eyebrow. "You _are _coming home, George." He sated firmly, all thoughts of muggle kettles now gone. "I thought we to that agreed last night."

"We didn't agree to that." George replied, folding his arms across his chest. "I said I wouldn't stop you from taking Freddie to Hogwarts. I never said that I would come back too. I have a life here now…I can't just leave." He paused. "I don't even know if I _want_ to leave. It's just…so fast."

Ron sighed. "Look…George…I don't think you understand." He began. "It was hard enough to convince everyone not to come with me last night- mum thought the entire family should go, but I figured that might be a bit overwhelming so I talked her out of it."

George nodded, thankful that last night hadn't been even more chaotic. He could only imagine what it would have been like with mum, dad and_ all_ of his siblings there…

"But I promised them that I'd bring you back. Today." Ron continued. "Mum is beside herself with excitement- she's even got a birthday party planned for Freddie tonight. I _can't_ go back without you…they'll all be heartbroken, and then they'll apparate here to drag you back themselves." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "So, I know it's not necessarily fair to you, but you don't really have a choice. Either you come back with me, or you get dragged back by mum a few hours later. Either way, you're coming home."

George felt his body tense as he thought over what Ron had just said.

He was right, now that they knew where to find him, it was only a matter of time before more of the family appeared. There was no way to avoid it…unless, of course, he continued to run.

It was a tempting thought…he could go even further this time…maybe Alaska, or Japan, or…

Shaking his head, George forced himself not to follow that train of thought. Scary as it was to stay, he knew that the time for running was over.

Ron was right…he didn't really have a choice…

"This is insane." George stated, forcing his numb body into a nearby chair. "I mean…I half expected the letter…but you…and then this…I wasn't ready."

Ron gave his brother a sympathetic smile, relieved that the man seemed to be slowly accepting his fate. This was much better then the heated arguments he had faced last night. "I know." He began quietly. "But I also know that- deep down- you want to come back. You're not a muggle, George, and this is not where you belong."

There was a long pause before George responded. "You're right." He whispered, looking down at his now-freckled hands. "I miss it. I've always missed it. But that doesn't make this any easier. What am I supposed to say to everyone? How am I supposed to explain myself? Explain what I did…"

"They'll understand." Ron replied, placing a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "They all love you- and Freddie- and all that they really care about is getting you both back. Nothing else matters."

George nodded, trying to ignore the lump that was beginning to form in his throat.

Maybe Ron was right.

Maybe they would be more forgiving then he had feared.

Maybe it really was time to return.

"I think I'll go wake Freddie." George muttered, standing up from his chair and taking a few steps towards the hallway. "If we're going to do this, then we had better start getting ready."

Ron smiled. "Good." He said, his blue eyes flashing with excitement and triumph. "We'll go in a few hours then. However long it takes you to pack."

"Packing will take more then a few hours." George replied. "I don't even have any boxes…there is no way I can get every-"

"Maybe if you do it the muggle way." Ron cut in, his grin growing even wider. "If you use magic, on the other hand…" he trailed off and pulled his wand out of his robes. "Accio George's wand." He said, giving his own wand a brusque wave.

Seconds later, a small wooden object zoomed past George's head, landing firmly in his brother's outstretched hand.

"Here." Ron said, holding the long-neglected wand out for George to take.

George looked down at it for several long seconds, he was still hesitant, but he could feel his resolve beginning to break.

It was now or never…

Reaching out, George grabbed the object, revelling in the familiar feeling of the smooth wood in his hand.

It had been a long time…but somehow, it still felt so incredibly right…

Although it was difficult to admit it, even to him self, he knew that this _was_ who he was meant to be.

Ron smiled again.

"Welcome back, George."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A beam of sunlight hit Freddie's cheek, rousing him from his peaceful slumber. He groaned- not yet ready to wake up- and tried to hide from the morning beneath his thick, warm blankets.

Despite his best attempts, however, he knew that it was already too late. He was awake- albeit reluctantly- and he wouldn't be able to get himself back to sleep.

For a few moments, his mind remained blissfully clear, but as he rolled over onto his other side and adjusted his head on the pillow, it all came flooding back- and he suddenly felt very awake.

Last night.

The letter.

His uncle.

His father.

_Magic_.

Freddie quickly sat up, pushing back the blankets and drawing several deep breaths.

Maybe it had all been a dream…

Maybe he had imagined the entire thing…

But a quick glance around the room told him that last night had, in fact, been real. A stack of strange candy sat neatly staked upon 'Hogwarts, a History' on his bedside table.

It had happened.

It all was true.

He really was a wizard...

The sight of someone at his bedroom door distracted the boy away from his frantic thoughts. For a brief second, his brain didn't quite register who the person was, but he then remembered that his dad now looked slightly different.

It would take a little while to get used to the bright red hair and freckles- both of which seemed all the more striking in growing the daylight.

"Morning Freddie." His dad said with a weak smile.

It was evident that his father hadn't gotten much sleep that night- if he even got any at all.

"I was coming to wake you, but that obviously isn't necessary." He continued as he pushed open the half-closed door and made his way further into the room. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

Freddie shook his head, noticing for the first time that his father was holding a wand in his right hand. It looked different then Ron's- slightly shorter, and made out of a different kind of wood.

"Is…is that your wand?" Freddie asked reluctantly, his eyes fixated on the wooden object.

George nodded, as he sat down at the edge of Freddie's bed. "Yes. Mahogany and unicorn hair, twelve inches." He replied. "Haven't used it in years…"

"Oh." The boy responded, not sure of what say next and feeling slightly shocked that his father had, apparently, decided to stop denying his magic.

Thankfully, his father spoke before the silence grew too uncomfortable.

"Look, Freddie…" George began slowly. "Your Uncle and I have been talking, and it seems like we have to go home- err, I mean, to the Burrow- today, at least for a bit."

Freddie's eyes grew wide. He was anxious to meet the rest of the family…but he hadn't thought that he'd be doing it so soon. He was suddenly full of both excitement and worry.

What would they be like?

What if they didn't like him?

What if he didn't fit in?

"I know that doesn't give us much time, but Ron says he promised that he'd bring us back today, and your grandmother can be a scary woman when promises are broken." He explained.

"What about school?" Freddie asked. "It's Friday, I'm supposed to go."

"I'll call you in sick." George replied. "Don't worry." He paused and looked down at the large book on Freddie's bedside table. "Besides, if you're going to go to Hogwarts next year, muggle school won't do you much good. You don't have to go back if you don't want to. The year is almost over anyway…"

The boy's eyes grew even wider. As much as he sometimes hated sitting through his classes, the thought of never going back again…never being with his friends again…was extremely upsetting.

What if he never even got to say goodbye…

"I…I'll miss today." He agreed. "But I think I want to finish the year. I can't just leave…I want to see my friends again."

George nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I understand." He began gently. "And if you want to finish the year, that is fine. But you should also know that things won't ever be the same again. Your friends…you won't be able to see them very often- or even tell them were you're going. If you choose to stay in the wizarding world, you will have to make some sacrifices."

Freddie looked down at his quilt- unable to repress his growing apprehension. His father was right- this would change everything. Soon, he would be living in a different country, going to a different school and living an entirely different life.

It was terrifying…and yet, somehow, it also seemed right.

He couldn't really explain it, but he had always felt like something had been missing in his life. There had always been a void…a nagging feeling that something wasn't right. But last night, as he had listened to his father and uncle explain the magical world, the void had begun to fill. It was as if, deep down, a part of him had always known that that was where he belonged…

"I know dad." Freddie replied quietly, looking back up at his father. "I know it won't be easy…but I also know that it's the right thing to do. I can't stay here and live a lie."

George gave his son a sad smile. "I'm sorry that I've put you in such a difficult situation." He began. "This all must be such a shock…and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I should have been honest since the beginning. I should have realized that I couldn't keep you protected forever…"

"It's alright." The boy said earnestly. "I know why you did it." he paused. "I mean, I _am_ a little mad that you weren't honest with me- but I also know that you had good intentions. You wanted what was best for me, after mom…"

He trailed off and looked back down at the quilt. They had come a long way in the past twelve hours, but Freddie knew that they weren't quite ready to deal with the biggest issue of them all- the issue that had caused his father to leave in the first place…

"You're an amazing kid, Freddie." George said, placing a tender hand on the boys shoulder. "You've taken all of this so well- and I am so incredibly proud of you." He paused and gave another sad smile. "I don't think I deserve such a wonderful son. All I've ever done is mess things up…"

Freddie looked up, surprised by his father's genuine insecurity. Did he really think that he was a bad father?

That couldn't be further from the truth…

"Don't say that." The boy said quietly. "You're a great dad. The best."

"Thanks." George replied, his brown eyes looking slightly moist. "I'm so incredibly relieved to know that you don't hate me after all that's happened…all that I've put you through…"

Freddie smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "I could never hate you." He stated firmly.

There was a long pause as the two drifted off into their own private thoughts. Despite it all, both father and son knew that everything was going to be okay.

Nothing could come between Fred and George.

Freddie glanced down at his father's freckled hand, his eyes once again drawn to the wand, and a sudden idea struck.

"Dad…" he began slowly, snapping George out of his contemplative state. "I want you to change me back. I want to be _me _again."

Knowing exactly what his son meant, but still feeling reluctant, George drew a deep breath. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Freddie nodded.

It was time…

He needed to see.

Giving in, George released his breath with a loud sigh and raised his wand- revelling in the comforting familiarity of it all.

Freddie closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come.

He heard his father mumble a few Latin words, and felt a pleasant warmth wash over him. Being hit with the spell was far more enjoyable then he could have anticipated- it didn't hurt at all. A few seconds later, he felt the warmth disappear and heard his father's quiet words.

"You can open your eyes now. It's over."

Freddie did as he was told, and after a quick glance at his father- whose expression seemed to suggest that he felt a mixture of sadness and pride- the boy rushed over to his bedroom mirror.

The sight that greeted him was both shocking and- strangely enough- comforting.

He looked so much like his father and uncle. The same unbelievably bright red hair and the same pale skin tone covered in freckles from head to toe. It was a very different and yet very fitting combination.

He was 'every inch a Weasley', as his uncle would put it.

And, for the first time in his life, he felt complete.

The void was finally gone.

He turned back towards his father and smiled.

"I think I'm ready." He said.

It was time to go home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N Tell me your thoughts and I will write more :)


	7. With a faery hand in hand

**Chapter Six- "With a faery hand in hand"**

_A few hours later…_

Ron, George and Freddie stood in the centre of the living room, watching the final seconds tick by on the clock. Ron had set the portkey to leave at nine o'clock, and the three were now waiting for the fateful moment to arrive.

As George stood with his hand on the key (which, this time, had been enchanted into a grubby muggle tea cup), he tried to stop himself from thinking too hard about what was to come. The last little while had felt like such a blur, and it was surprisingly easy to zone out and let the numbness overtake him.

He couldn't think about it…

He wouldn't…

It was too late to change anything now.

They were going home.

'Ding'

The clock struck nine, and a wide grin broke out on Ron's freckled face. "Ready then?" he asked as the clock chimed again. "Hold onto your luggage." He advised, looking down at his nervous nephew. "And you might want to close your eyes- it's easier that way."

The boy was about to reply, but before he could, a strange tugging feeling overcame them all. A few dizzying and terrifying seconds later, they had been transported from George's suburban home to a soft patch of grass in the English country side.

Ron was the first one to get back to his feet. He brushed off his dark robes, and looked around the area with a large smile.

"Ah." He said happily, breathing in the country air. "Home."

Trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart, George stood up before helping his disoriented son do the same. Having never travelled by portkey before, Freddie looked slightly ill, and it took a few seconds for him to overcome his shock.

"Were are we, exactly?" Freddie asked quietly as he looked around the abandoned landscape. There were no houses…or people…in sight.

"We're in Devon." Ron answered happily as he reached down to scoop up Freddie's suit case. "Which is in the south of England. Ottery St. Catchpole is over that way." He said, pointing to his left. "And the Burrow is straight ahead- just over that hill."

Freddie nodded, and looked over at his father for confirmation.

"Yes." George said quietly. "We're hom…I mean, here."

The man took a moment to observe his surroundings. They were only about a two minute walk from the Burrow, and he could remember many happy childhood days spent in these open fields. He was happy to see that little had changed.

It was just as beautiful as it had always been.

"Alright then, let's get going." Ron began again as the started his trek towards the grassy hill. "We don't want to keep everyone waiting."

Father and son quickly began to follow behind him, both looking slightly apprehensive.

"Who is "everyone"?" Freddie asked his father as they began to climb the hill.

George shook his head. He had been wondering the exact same thing. Ron had mentioned that 'the family' was anticipating their arrival, but he hadn't had the chance to ask him who exactly that would consist of. All of his siblings? Their spouses? Their kids?

"I'm not sure." He replied. "Your grandparents will definitely be there. As for everyone else…I don't know, but I'm guessing the house will be quite crowded."

Freddie directed his glance back down at the grass- he now looked even more nervous then he had before.

"Don't worry, mate." George continued, sounding more cheerful then he felt. "It may be a bit overwhelming at first, but everyone is really nice. They'll be very happy to see you."

"Alright…" Freddie replied, sounding less then convinced.

He paused for a moment before opening his mouth to ask another question- but before the boy could speak, Ron cut him off.

"There it is!" he exclaimed. "The Burrow."

Freddie's head snapped up, and he looked straight ahead to take in the new sight. The house had not been what he was expecting- it was the most haphazard building he had ever seen, and its strange construction seemed to defy the laws of physics.

"But…how…" the boy stuttered, pausing for a moment to stare ahead. "How does it stay standing?

"Magic." George answered quietly. His eyes were also fixed on the house, but instead of awe, his seemed to be filled with longing.

The sight had hit him hard- harder then he would have thought.

He hadn't realized how much he had missed it…and he was suddenly very anxious to get inside.

No matter what happened, and what life brought, George knew that this place would _always_ hold a special place in his heart.

"Come on." Ron's voce urged from a few feet ahead of him. "We need to keep going."

Snapping out of their dazes, Freddie and George continued their trek, inching ever closer to their new lives.

When they finally reached the front gate, Ron turned around to address them. "Wait in the yard for just a moment." He said, still smiling. "I'm going to go in and tell everyone we're here. I should also…explain a few things. I'll come get you when everything is ready."

George nodded numbly, not thinking of any reason to protest, and watched as his younger brother bolted down the front path and into the house.

There were only seconds away, now…

As impossible as it had seemed only a few short days ago, he was home.

And it was time.

He turned to see how Freddie was holding up. Much to his surprise, the boy had wandered across the front garden, and was looking down behind one of the old gnarled tress with fascination.

"Oi, Freddie- what are you doing?" George asked, walking over to join him. "Is there something there?"

"I think I found some fairies!" Freddie exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. "I didn't think fairies even existed! This is beyond cool…"

George looked down at the sight which had captured the boy's attention and smiled. "Those aren't fairies." He explained gently. "They're pixies…and they can be nasty little buggers if you're not careful. They're much stronger then they look."

"Oh." Freddie replied, taking a cautious step back. "They're still cool though." He paused for a moment and looked around the garden, as if trying to see what other magical creatures might suddenly pop up. "Next you'll be telling me that giants and werewolves exist to." He chuckled, his tone suggesting that- despite his encounter with the pixies- he didn't think the other two could possibly be real.

George tried not to laugh, reminding himself that his son didn't know things that he had always taken for granted. "As a matter of fact…" he began, but before he could finish, a woman's loud shriek distracted both father and son away from their conversation.

They both turned in the direction of the noise, and seconds later the front door burst open and a plump woman with flaming red hair ran out into the garden.

She had a few more grey hairs then he remembered, but aside from that, Molly Weasley looked almost exactly the same as she had when George had left.

"Mum." George whispered, too shocked by her sudden appearance to move a muscle.

She ran towards her estranged son, as quickly as she could, and a moment later she had drawn him into a desperate and grateful hug.

"Oh George…" she said, her voice halfway between a sob and a scream. He could see the tears running down her freckled cheeks, and he felt his heart sink. He was responsible for her pain…he had done this…

"Hello Mum." He choked, returning her embrace with shaking arms.

Merlin, he had missed her…

"I'm so sorry…I should have never…"

"Shhh." Molly replied quietly, her head resting on his chest and the tears still pouring down her face. "I'm just glad you're back Georgie. My baby boy…" she trailed off, and gave a loud sob before grasping the back of his shirt even tighter then before…as if he would disappear again if she let go…

George didn't know what to do…what to say…

So he simply stood. Holding her tightly, and revelling in the comfort of her arms.

It felt so incredibly good to be back…

"Dad." A small voice beside him snapped George out of his daze. The man directed his gaze down to see a nervous Freddie looking back and forth between Molly and the crowd that was now beginning to gather at the door. It was clear that he didn't know what to do.

George, himself shocked by the sight of the crowd (Ron really had meant _everyone_), opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to come up with some words of comfort for his son.

Before he could offer and support however, his mother released him and redirected her attention to his apprehensive young son.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, bending down to pull the boy into a tight embrace. "Is this Freddie!? You've grown so much…" He held him closely for several long seconds, before drawing back to take in his appearance. "Merlin, you look so much like your father did at your age. Such a handsome boy..."

Freddie blinked and looked over at his dad again. George merely shrugged and smiled.

"I…err…thanks." He said. "I guess you must be my Grandmother…" he paused- this was feeling more and more awkward by the second. "It's nice to meet you."

He could see the woman's eyes begin to well with tears once again, and he wondered if he had said something wrong. His heart rate increased- it had only been a minute, and he had already messed things up…

"Oh Freddie." His newly discovered Grandmother choked between sobs. "I've missed you so much."

Freddie didn't know how to respond.

He wished that he could say the same, but in all honestly he had no memory of his grandmother…or this strange world that he had, evidently, been born into…

Thankfully, the appearance of several more family members stopped him from having to say more.

An older man with thinning red hair and a sizable bald spot was the next to arrive at the scene. He too drew George into a tight hug, and Freddie supposed that it was safe to say that this man was his grandfather. He certainly looked quite a bit like his uncle Ron- while his father clearly took after Molly's side of the family.

Before he could contemplate matters further, the man stepped towards him, a wide grin on his face.

"Arthur- its Freddie!" Molly explained, an excited smile shining through her still-flowing tears. "Hasn't he grown?"

The man nodded, beaming down at his grandson with a look of unmistakable pride. "He certainly has." He confirmed. "And, I hear, he has learned quite a bit about muggles during his time away! You'll have to tell me all about it…"

"Oh hush, Arthur." Molly chided, shooting her husband a quick glare. "The boy has just come back to us, and I'm sure he has more on his mind then plugs and ekleticity- isn't that right dear?"

Freddie looked up at his grandparents for a brief moment, unsure of what to do. "I..err…" he began, looking towards his grandfather. "I guess I do know a lot about muggles. I thought I was one until yesterday…"

The two adults exchanged a look that Freddie couldn't quite read.

"Is that right…gracious, this must be quite the shock for you then." Arthur said quietly. "Ron mentioned that he'd found you two in a muggle suburb…didn't get around to telling us that you were actually living like muggles though…"

Molly frowned and glanced back towards George, who was now surrounded by several of his ecstatic siblings. "I'll have to have a word with him about that." She muttered quietly before looking back at Freddie and smiling again. "Well, it hardly matters now." She began again. "Come, let's introduce you to the rest of the family."

Freddie nodded, and seconds later found him self being dragged through the sizable crowd of people- most of which, he observed, had varying shades of flaming red hair. Ron hadn't been lying when he had said it was a family trait.

"Is that Freddie!?" he heard someone gasp. He turned around to see a woman with flaming hair starring down at him in shock. She was very pretty, and he could see traces of his grandparents on her pleasant face.

"It certainly is." Arthur proclaimed with a smile. "Freddie, this is your Aunt Ginny."

"Nice to meet you." Freddie said quietly, extending his hand for the woman to shake. Rather then taking it, however, she gave him a warm hug.

"Harry, Lily, over here!" she called as she released him. "It's Freddie!"

Before he knew it, Ginny was joined by a redheaded girl- who looked to be about his age- and a man with dark hair. Ginny introduced them as her husband Harry and her daughter Lily- their youngest child and the only one not currently away at Hogwarts.

"She'll be starting next year too." Ginny said happily. "And so will Hugo." She finished, glancing around the garden, evidently in search of the other eleven year old. "He's around here somewhere...I'm sure you'll meet him soon."

Freddie nodded and tried to smile.

It had only been a few minutes, and he already felt overwhelmed.

There were so many people…how was he ever going to remember them all?

Noticing the boy's apprehension, Harry gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry mate." He said, hoping that his words would be of some comfort. "I felt completely overwhelmed the first time I came to the Burrow too- you get used to it quickly."

Freddie was about to reply, when the arrival of even more family members distracted his attention.

"Bill, Charlie." Molly said happily from behind him. "Come say hello to Freddie."

The two men both- evidently- his uncles, came over and shook his hand enthusiastically.

"Great to have you back, Freddie." The oldest one said cheerfully, his smile making the strange scars on his face suddenly less noticeable. "I'm your uncle Bill- and this is Charlie" he said, gesturing to the other man who, Freddie observed, looked quite a bit like his father.

"Hi." Freddie replied quietly.

"Ooo, is zat Freddie?" a third new arrival asked, coming up beside Bill and lacing her arm around his back. "_Mon dieu! _'e looks like George!"

Bill chuckled. "Indeed." He paused and turned back towards Freddie. "This is my wife Fleur."

"Nice to meet you." Freddie said, for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

The woman's eyes widened as he spoke. "What is zat accent?" she asked, turning towards her husband. "Where did Ron say zey had been staying?"

Freddie shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very out of place. In all of the excitement, he had almost forgotten that everyone else in his family (with the notable exception of Fleur, it seemed) was unmistakably English. Although he had- evidently- been born in London, he had grown up across the ocean and certainly did not sound like the rest of the people present.

"I grew up in Canada." He said quietly, wishing his accent hadn't given him away. It was bad enough that he knew next to nothing about magic…he didn't need something else to make him feel even more distant from his newly discovered family.

"He'll loose the accent soon enough." Arthur pointed out, giving Freddie a reassuring pat on the back. "He's still young enough; it should only take a few months."

Freddie felt his stomach churn. He wasn't sure how he felt about that…it would be nice to fit in a bit better…but it also felt strange to turn his back on the past. He had spoken like this for as long as he could remember, and he couldn't imagine anything else. _They_ were the ones with accents, not him…

The boy forced a smile. "I suppose…" he muttered quietly.

"Now…" His grandfather began, glancing around the yard. "Who else do you need to meet?" he paused, before catching sight of someone a few feet away. "Of course." He said cheerfully, gently leading the boy towards another group of strangely dressed people, Molly following close behind.

"Freddie." The man began again, gaining the attention of the excited looking group. "This is your Aunt Hermione- Ron's wife." He said, gesturing towards a woman with bushy brown hair. "And that is their son Hugo." Arthur stated, this time looking over at a boy with flaming red hair who clearly looked like Uncle Ron. "He's your age- just turned eleven a few weeks ago, isn't the right Hu?"

The other boy nodded, giving Freddie an appraising look. "Yep." He replied, smiling over at his Grandfather. "I can't wait for summer to be over so that we can finally go to Hogwarts. I'm sure we'll both be in Gryffindor, don't you reckon?"

"Hugo." Hermione cut in gently. "You have to remember that Freddie is just getting used to all of this. He might not know what Gryffindor is yet."

"Dad and Uncle Ron mentioned it last night actually." He replied, smiling at his aunt. "And I started reading a bit about in _Hogwarts, A History_. Thanks for that, by the way. It's a very useful book."

Hermione beamed and Hugo made a face. "I've always thought so." She stated. "_Certain_ people refuse to read it…" she continued, shooting a pointed look at her son. "But I'm glad you'll be putting it to good use."

"I will be." Freddie confirmed.

"Well then." Another voice cut in. "It certainly seems like you haven't inherited your father's mischievous ways. Keep up with your studies, and you might make prefect by fifth year."

Freddie turned towards the speaker to see another tall man with flaming red hair. He was the only one present wearing glasses, and his demeanour seemed much less relaxed then the rest of the Weasleys.

"I'm your uncle Percy." He said, introducing himself. "And this is my wife, Penny." He continued, indicating the woman with curly blonde hair standing at his right. "Our children- Liam and Gwyneth – are both away at Hogwarts right now- but I'm sure they will both be more then happy to help you with your studies next year."

"Err…thanks." Freddie responded, making a mental note not to sit next to Percy at family dinners. He clearly wasn't the most exciting family member- although, he could tell that the man was genuinely pleased to see him.

"Freddie!" A familiar voice called from behind him. He turned around quickly, grateful to see a familiar face.

"Dad." He replied, happily as his father walked towards him.

"How are you holding up, mate? Met everyone yet?"

The boy nodded. "Almost- I think." He paused. "It's hard to keep track- there are so many people."

George chuckled. "You can say that again." He replied. "And this is with half of your cousins away at Hogwarts for a few more weeks…"

Freddie's eyes widened, he found it hard to imagine the family being even larger. He had always known that his father had an estranged family…but he never could have guessed that they happened to be an extremely large family of red-headed witches and wizards.

"They'll be so anxious to meet you when they get back." Molly noted, smiling down at her grandson. "I wanted them to come home for the weekend, but unfortunately they have exams coming up and the Headmistress wouldn't allow it." she gave a small frown, clearly indicating that she thought that family was much more important then exams. "But no worries, we still have a very exciting day planned for you. It_ is_ your birthday after all- and a special one at that."

Freddie tried to smile again. He wasn't sure if he could handle much more excitement…this had already been an extremely overwhelming experience.

"How about we get inside then." Molly continued, placing a gentle hand on Freddie's back and leading him towards the front door. "George dear, do you need help with the suitcases?"

"No mum, I've got it." he replied, pulling his wand out the pocket of his jeans and muttering a spell. Freddie watched in awe as their luggage levitated through the yard, passing by he and his grandmother, and whizzing through the door.

No one else seemed to think much of it, and continued chatting merrily as they began making their way inside.

Yes…

Freddie thought, still looking around at his surroundings with fascination.

This was definitely going to take some getting used to…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N Phew, that was hard to write. It is difficult to have a reunion scene without making it too boring and simply listing off family members. I tried hard not to do too much of that. Tell me what you think, and I will continue to ignore my homework and write more!

Kerei Kitsune- thanks for the comments. I thought about the ear thing…initially intended to mention it, but then I thought I'd have to come up with an explanation for Freddie (he'd want to know how his father had lost an ear), and since I couldn't I ignored it. Naughty of me, perhaps…lets just assume George found a way to fix it. Muggle plastic surgery perhaps ;)

Thanks for all of the reviews last time! You keep me going!


	8. Mingling Glances

**Chapter 7- Mingling Glances**

George stood in the threshold between the hallway and the Burrow's small living room, watching Freddie play a lively game of exploding snap with his cousins. They had only been back for about half an hour, but the boy already seemed to be settling in- he was laughing and joking with Hugo and Lily, and it was clear that he was having a good time. George had never seen his son look this carefree, and as he watched the trio, he knew that this was where Freddie was meant to be.

He only wished that he could somehow get rid of the gnawing guilt that was growing inside of him…

Now that he was back, he was becoming increasingly convinced that leaving had been a horrible mistake…he never should have taken Freddie away from his loving family…

…and he felt incredibly selfish for doing so.

But, no matter how much he regretted it, he knew that it was too late to change the past. He had made the decision to leave after Kate's death, and he now had to live with the consequences of his actions.

"George." A quiet voice said from behind him, distracting his attention away from his son.

He turned to see that his mother standing near the kitchen, a serious expression across her usually pleasant face.

"Can we talk for a moment?"

George nodded reluctantly. He wasn't sure if he was ready for a heart to heart quite yet, but it seemed that he had little choice. "Alright." He said quietly. "In the kitchen?"

His mother gave an affirmative nod, and George followed her silently into the next room. As he entered, he took a moment to observe his surroundings. It has been so long since he had stood in his parent's kitchen, but being there still filled him with a comforting sense of security.

The clock, the large wooden pantry, the old stove…it was all so familiar, and it all felt like _home_.

Molly gestured for him to take a seat on one of the worn chairs, before seating herself directly across the scrubbed wooden table. For a moment, mother and son sat in silence, both simply enjoying the comfort of each others company.

But, as happy as today's reunion had been, they both knew that there were still some issues that could not be avoided…

"Nine years, George." Molly began quietly, her brown eyes suddenly full of grief. "How could you stay away from us for nine years?"

The man sighed and ran a hand through his flaming red hair. As much as he didn't want to have this conversation, he had been expecting it- and he knew that he owed her an explanation.

She deserved that much, at least.

"I'm so sorry mum." He replied quietly, trying to ignore the lump that was forming in his throat. "I shouldn't have done it…but at the time, I had gone mad with grief, and I couldn't comprehend staying. I didn't know what else to do…"

The woman sighed heavily, and looked up to meet her son's eyes. "You should have let us help you." She said sadly. "We're your family, George. We're here to support you- and we would have, if you'd have let us."

"I know." George replied. "I never doubted that. I knew you loved me and would be there for me…but I didn't want to be pitied. Again." He paused and directed his gaze back down at the table. "I didn't want everyone feeling sorry for me- I just wanted to get away and forget about all the pain this life had brought me. So that's what I tried to do. It was stupid of me, of course. I know that now. I could never get away; no matter how far I ran…I would always remember. But I had to try…"

Silence filled the room and Molly tried to absorb her son's emotional explanation. A part of her could sympathize with him- she knew that his life had been shaken by two big tragedies, and she could understand his desire to escape. But the fact that he had turned his back on his family, and his world, still her hurt her.

It had hurt her every day for the past nine years…

"Ron said you were living like a muggle." The woman continued, wanting to find out more about her sons life during his long period of absence. "In North America, no less. Did you really need to run _that_ far…was staying here really_ that_ unthinkable?"

George drew a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. It was tempting to simply break down and throw himself into her arms. He wished that he was six years old again. He wished that he could let his emotions out, and let his mother calm him with hugs and soothing words.

But he wasn't six years old anymore.

He was an adult- and he knew that he needed to act like one.

"It was at the time." He said slowly. "I was so overcome by everything that had happened, and I wanted to get as far away as I could. It was too hard to think about simply carrying on as usual. I couldn't pretend that things were okay, because they most definitely weren't. I needed to get out of England, and I needed to get away from magic." He paused. "Or, at least, I thought that's what I needed…"

"So you thought that abandoning your family and renouncing your heritage would make you feel better?" Molly asked, a note of bitterness in her voice. "You thought that pretending to be a muggle would make the pain disappear?"

"Yes…well, not exactly…but…" George struggled to reply. When she put it that way, it sounded incredibly delusional…and, he supposed, it probably was. But that was not how he had seen it at the time. Back then, stricken by grief and overcome with emotion, the crazy plan had somehow made sense.

"I guess a part of me felt that way at the time." He tried again. "But I know now that it was stupid. The pain didn't go away, and I missed everyone terribly."

Molly gave a sad smile. "If you missed us, then why didn't you come back?" she asked, her eyes moist with unshed tears.

"Because the longer I was away, the harder it was to think about returning." George replied, starring at the pot on the stove and purposefully avoiding his mothers gaze. "I thought you'd be mad at me…I didn't want to face that…I couldn't…"

"Oh George…" Molly cut in, reaching across the table to place a warm hand on her son's cheek- forcing him to look back into her eyes. "We were never mad at you. We were just…sad that you didn't think we could offer enough comfort. Sad that you felt you had no choice but to leave." She paused, and starred sorrowfully at her estranged son. "I felt like I had failed as a mother. I wasn't good enough for you…and that hurt me so much."

George felt his stomach clench- did she really feel like this had been _her _fault? She had always been an amazing mother, and he had missed her terribly. His departure had nothing to do with her shortcomings, and he was shocked to hear that she thought otherwise.

"No mum." He chocked, fighting back tears. "It wasn't you at all. You're the best mother anyone could ask for, and I missed you so much. You didn't do anything that made me want to leave- I left because of my own inability to deal with things. It wasn't you. It could never be you."

There was another long pause before Molly finally summoned up the strength to speak. "Thank you." She whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her son's forehead. "I'm so glad…"

"I'm sorry." George replied, not caring that his tears had finally escaped. "I'm so sorry that I put you though all of that…I never meant…"

The woman nodded as she sat back down in her seat, and gave him a watery smile. "It's alright." She said. "You're back now, and everything is going to be okay again."

He smiled back. It wouldn't be an easy readjustment, and nothing could ever bring Fred and Katie back…but he still knew that she was right. Everything _was_ going to be okay.

"So tell me." Molly began again, her tone suddenly much lighter then before. "Was it hard to live like a muggle? I can't imagine getting by without magic. But then again, the muggles have come up with clever ways to get around that."

George chuckled, wiping a few stray tears from his freckled cheeks. "It wasn't easy at first." He replied honestly. "When I first got a muggle house it all seemed so foreign to me. Everything runs on electricity, and they have all sorts of appliances and tools that you have to use for things we'd usually do with a quick spell. But I got used to it- some of the things they have come up with are fascinating."

His mother nodded. "Well, your father would certainly agree with you there." She replied. "Did you have a muggle job?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah." George replied. "I helped manage a restaurant- which wasn't too different from running the shop, when you get down to the basics at least. Dealing with money, coming up with advertising strategies- stuff like that- it's not too different in the muggle world."

"No, imagine it wouldn't be." She replied. She gave another small smile before a sudden thought brought the serious expression back to her face. "What about Freddie?" she asked, glancing down the hallway to see if the boy was nearby. "You raised him as a muggle?"

George sighed, feeling guilty for the umpteenth time that day. "I tried to, yes." He replied. "I thought keeping him away from magic would be easier. The magical world contained so many painful memories for me, I wanted my son to be spared from it. It was stupid of me, though. I should have realized that you can't keep a wizard away from magic forever."

"No, you can't." Molly replied solemnly. "So you never told him anything? He had no idea…?"

"Not until yesterday, no." George said, looking down in shame. "But then Ron arrived with the letter and everything came crashing down. Freddie has taken it all very well, considering. He's a good kid."

The woman sighed. "It won't be easy for him." She said sadly. "His life is going to be completely different now."

"I know. And I wish that things were different." George replied. "But what's done is done. He'll be okay- I know he can get through it."

Molly nodded. She had only been reunited with her grandson for a short while, but she could already sense that Freddie was an incredibly strong and clever boy. He had dealt with meeting the family very admirably, and she knew that he would deal with life in the magical world as well as possible.

This was, after all, a Weasley- and this where he truly belonged.

"I feel like I missed so much." Molly said quietly, he mind still occupied with thoughts of her grandson. "He has grown up so much. I wish I had been there."

"I wish you had been there, too." George replied. "I'm sorry that I denied you that."

The woman nodded again and stood up from her spot. "Well, like you said- what's done is done. And I am looking forward to spending more time with him in the future. I want to be there- for both of you. Everyone does."

George smiled.

He was looking forward to the future too- it suddenly seemed brighter then it had in years.

"Thank you." He said quietly.

Molly smile back before turning to adjust some of the pots on the stove with a flick of her wand. "Now." She began brusquely, taking on the no non-sense tome George knew so well. "Why don't you go get Freddie so that both of you can get changed for his special birthday dinner?"

"Already?" George asked. "It's so early, we haven't even had lunch yet."

"Early to you, maybe." Molly replied as she watched the potatoes drop themselves into a large pot of boiling water. "But its almost 4pm in this time zone. And I don't want the part to go too late- it has been a very taxing day, and I'm sure everyone will want to turn in pretty early."

George stood up from his chair and nodded. "Alright." He agreed, realizing that she made a valid point. "I'll go get Freddie."

"Good. I put some dress robes for you and Freddie out in your old room." She stated. "Why don't you get out of those muggle clothes and relax for a bit. I'll call you down when dinner is ready."

George smiled again- she was still the same old mum. Always organized and always looking out for her family. Preparing to go get his son from the living room, George took a few steps towards the hall- but before he left the room, he realized that one thing had still been left unsaid.

"Mum." He began, turning back around to face her.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I just want you to know that I love you. I always have."

For a moment, Molly said nothing, and George worried that he was going to make her cry again. But instead of tears, she broke into a wide smile.

"I love you too, George." She replied. "And I never want to loose you again."

Relieved, George smiled back. "You won't." he assured her firmly.

And he truly meant it.

He was finally home, and he knew that he could never leave.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

George led his son up the final set of stairs and onto the desired landing. Father and son stood quietly outside of the old wooden door in front of them, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.

George's eyes flicked to the worn sign before him. _Gred and Forge's Room. Enter at your own risk. _It read, in faded gold letters.

He remembered when Fred had put it there- the summer before they left for Hogwarts. Fred had wanted to test out their new wands by putting a hex on it so that any intruders would be deterred from entering their mischievous haven. George had talked him out of it though, pointing out that their mum would have their heads if she was ever at the receiving end of the hex.

He had always been the more logical one- putting the necessary cap on Fred's schemes when they began to go too far. Fred was the brains behind the duo and that was why, George supposed, their notorious mischief making had died on that horrible night at Hogwarts. He couldn't do it on his own…the ideas had rarely been his; he just went along with them.

"Dad…" Freddie began cautiously, looking up at his father. "Why does it say Gred and Forge?" he asked, pointing towards the sign.

George snapped out of his daze and gave a sad smile. "That's what your uncle Fred and I used to call ourselves." He replied quietly. "It was one of our many inside jokes. We were quite the pranksters, back then…"

Freddie raised an eyebrow, obviously unable to comprehend his rather serious and mellow father pulling pranks on anyone.

Things had certainly changed…

"Shall we go in?" George asked, reaching for the door knob. "Your Grandma says that she found some robes for us to wear to dinner."

Freddie gave another perplexed look. "Robes?" asked. "Like everyone else is wearing? She expects us to dress like that too?"

"I know it may seem a bit strange to you." George replied sympathetically. "But robes are standard wizarding attire. You don't have to wear them on a regular basis if you don't want to, but I think its best if we just going along with your Grandma- at least for tonight. It'll make her happy."

The boy nodded, still a bit apprehensive, and watched as his father opened the door and made his way into the room.

For a moment, Freddie hovered by the doorway, taking in the scene around him. His father's old room was a bit of a mess, and filled with all sorts of strange and exciting objects. A pile of old books towered next to the door, and Freddie could see that none of the titles were at all familiar.

Standard Book of Spells Grade Three…101 Best Quidditch Moves…Twelve Fail Safe ways to Charm Witches…Fantastic Beasts and Were to Find Them…

Even more fascinating were the various objects which filled the tables and shelves throughout the room. Boxes of strange looking candy…a large crate of fake wands (according to the label on the side)…and a general array of interesting gadgets and trinkets that Freddie could not even begin to guess the function of.

It was a room unlike any he had ever seen. Even stranger then the other rooms in his grandparent's house.

Freddie was finally beginning to understand how strange the muggle world must have felt to his father…this place was a far cry from any muggle room he had ever seen.

As he took a cautious step into the room, Freddie noticed a large photograph on the opposite wall. A pair of teenage twins with flaming red hair stood in the frame, waving at the viewer with identical grins. Freddie knew that one of them was his father, but the pair looked so similar that he found it hard to tell them apart.

"Which one are you?" Freddie asked, instantly regretting his inquiry. His father may not have told him much about his old life, but he did know a bit about his uncle, and he knew that talking about him was a painful thing for his father.

George turned around, his eyes now moist from the overwhelming flood of memories that this room prompted. Following his sons gaze, he looked at the old photograph, and gave a sad smile. "I'm on the left." He said, his eyes fixed on the image. "Your uncle Fred is on the right. It's easy to tell us apart- I always had more freckles then he did."

Freddie glanced back at the picture. Although his father seemed to find their differences apparent, the boy still couldn't really distinguish between the two.

Silence filled the room for several moments as the two continued to watch the once-light-hearted pair wave happily at them. Freddie couldn't remember ever seeing his dad look that content…but, he supposed, it was hard to smile after loosing your twin and your wife…

"We used to be inseparable." George stated, speaking more to himself then to his son. "I still miss him, so incredibly much."

Freddie looked down at the floor- wondering if it would be okay to press the conversation further. He had always wanted to know more about his namesake…maybe this was his chance…

"What…what happened, exactly?" Freddie asked reluctantly.

His father drew a deep breath, clearly wrapped up in his own dark thoughts. Figuring that he would not, in fact, get any new information, Freddie prepared to change the subject- but, much to his surprise, his father began to speak before he could.

"He was killed." George began quietly, still starring unblinkingly at the picture. "During the war."

Freddie nodded- his father and Ron had mentioned the war with Voldemort last night. He knew that it had nearly torn the wizarding world apart.

"During the final battle…a Death Eater blasted down a wall, and Fred got hit. Percy and Ron were there- they said he was laughing just before it happened. He was always laughing…" the man trailed off and gave a sad smile. "I wasn't even there when he died. I should have been at his side- we could have protected each other. Or…" he paused again, and looked down at the old wooden floor. "I could have taken the blast instead. He was always the better one. It should have been me…"

Freddie stared up at his father, unsure of what to say or do. His dad still seemed a little dazed, and he spoke almost as if in a trance. It was obvious that he was still haunted by the thought of this fateful day…and it was obvious that he still felt guilty…

The boy wished that he could make it all go away. He didn't like seeing his dad like this. His dad was always so strong- it was strange and disillusioning to see a moment of weakness. But, Freddie realized, as much as he admired and idolized him, his dad was only human. He was entitled to feel pain and loss, just as much any anybody else…

"You would have liked him, you know." George continued, still looking at the floor. "He always had a joke up his sleeve, and he always knew how to make people laugh. He would have been an amazing father…he should have had the chance to become one." He paused, and gave a sad chuckle. "We played a lot of pranks during our Hogwarts days. And we were always coming up with new inventions. We started a joke shop together, you know. We were successful business men for awhile. Until the war…"

The boy starred at his father, surprised by these revelations. He couldn't picture his calm and serious dad running a joke shop- it didn't seem to fit. He must have been a very different person back then…and, he realized with a pang of sadness, the man he knew and loved now was a far cry from the happy teenager in the photograph.

Life had changed him

"I wish you could have met him." His father said, his voice barely a whisper. It was clear that his emotions were getting the better of him.

"I wish I could have met him too." Freddie replied. He paused for a moment before adding. "But you shouldn't feel guilty about what happened, dad. It was horrible, but it wasn't your fault."

After another moment of silence, George finally looked up at his son and gave him a watery smile. "I'm sorry Freddie, I didn't mean to go off like that. It's just…"

"It's alright dad." The boy cut in. "I can't even begin to understand what it was like for you. I wish I could make it better."

With that, Freddie took a step forward and gave his dad a tight hug. He knew that a mere hug didn't mean much after all that his dad had lost, but he hope that- in some small way- it would help.

"You do make it better." George replied quietly, returning the comforting embrace. "Just by being here, you make everyday better…I'd be so lost without you, Fred."

Despite himself, the boy smiled. Even though it was his real name, he was almost always Freddie, never Fred. He had always felt that he couldn't live up to the name…and had always assumed that his father felt the same. How could he- a shy, rather unimpressive boy- ever compare to the twin his father had lost?

Being called Fred, however, especially at this exact moment, seemed to confirm his important place in his father's life. He would never be exactly like his uncle, but maybe- just maybe- he did deserve to carry such a momentous name.

Still smiling, the boy looked up at the old photograph- noticing, for the first time, that the photographic Fred had stopped waving and was watching the scene with interest. For a brief moment, the two Fred's locked eyes, and a look of understanding was exchanged between them.

The Fred in the photograph gave his young nephew and nod and a wink, and the boy grinned.

He suddenly knew that, wherever his uncle was now, he was happy.

The boy continued to stare at the image, and watched as the older Fred smiled down at him, as if granting his approval.

…the torch had officially been passed from one Fred to another.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N Reviews are greatly appreciated!

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! You're awesome.


	9. Whispering in Their Ears

Freddie slowly made his way down the creaking staircase, his hand trailing against the old wooden walls.

He paused as he reached the second floor landing, and he took a moment to take in his new surroundings. Two more door ways stood on either side of him- doubtless leading into more strange and mysterious rooms full of magical objects he couldn't even begin to guess the function of. His grandparents' house seemed to be teeming with such things…a clock that told each family members location, self knitting needles, chess sets that moved by themselves…

He knew that all of it was real, but he also knew that it would take more then a day to truly come to terms with it all. Like most children, he had seen his share of fantasy movies, and read the standard collections of fairy tales…but all of that had been make-believe (or so he had thought), and he had never- not for one second- thought that such a world could actually exist …

But, as the last two days had made shockingly clear, it most certainly did.

Witches, wizards, fairies, goblins…flying broom sticks, cauldrons full of boiling potions…

All of these things that had always seemed like a fanciful escape from reality had _become _his reality…and he could only wonder how many more exciting revelations the future held.

"Oi, Fred!"

A loud voice snapped the boy away from his musings, and he turned quickly to face its source.

"Oh…hey Hugo." He replied with a smile as he found himself face to face with his newly discovered cousin. In the few hours they had known each other, the two boys had gotten along quite well, and Freddie was happy to know that he would have at least one friend as he ventured off to Hogwarts in the fall. "What's in the box?" he asked, his eyes suddenly drawn to the large parcel in Hugo's arms.

The other boy grinned in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Uncle Ron.

"I found these in the attic." Hugo replied, still smiling. "Here, let's go into Uncle Bill's old room so I can show you…best not to open it here- never know who could walk by."

Intrigued, Freddie followed his cousin into the nearest room and watched as he set the box down and began to quietly open the flaps. It was clear from his attempt to open the package with as little noise as possible that at least some of the adults in the house would disapprove of what was inside.

"May I present…" Hugo began, gesturing for Freddie to come closer. "A classic collection of Weasley's Wild-Fire Wiz-bangs!"

Looking down into the box, Freddie saw what appeared to be a large pile of regular firecrackers- but upon closer examination, he noticed that the words 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' were engraved on the side of each in shining gold writing. They were, quite obviously, a wizarding variation of the firecrackers he was accustomed to, made by a member of the Weasley clan.

"Neat." He said, nodding in approval. "Who made them? And how are they different from muggle fire crackers?"

Hugo shot him a look of surprise, and ran a hand through his short flaming red hair. "Wow…you're a bit more behind then I thought." he muttered be fore quickly adding "Not that it's your fault, of course. I just assumed you'd know about Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Er…no, sorry. Never heard of it." Freddie replied, his ears turning red with embarrassment. He hated feeling so out of place…he wondered how much else he didn't know… and how he would ever catch up with his peers who, like Hugo, clearly took their familiarity with the wizarding world for granted…

"No worries." Hugo said with another smile. "I suppose I should explain then…" he trailed off and thought for a moment. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was the joke shop your dad and Uncle Fred opened up. It made them famous … legendary even."

Freddie's eyes widened as realization dawned. His father had mentioned his old joke shop a little while ago, this must have been what he was talking about…and it must have been a bigger deal then he thought.

"They started it up as a mail order company when they were still at Hogwarts, and after they ditched school in the middle of their seventh year they set up a shop in Diagon Alley. It was an instant success- especially among Hogwarts students- and there is a location in Hogsmede now too."

"Wait…" Freddie cut in, trying to absorb what Hugo had said. "My dad dropped out of school? _My_ dad!? Are you sure we're talking about the same person here. My dad would never…"

"He did, trust me." Hugo said, smirking. "I heard stories about it all the time growing up- they went out with a bang, to say the least. That episode is almost as famous as the store itself. Uncle Fred and Uncle George were school heroes, back in the day."

Freddie shook his head in disbelief. He found it hard to imagine his level headed father, who had always advocated the importance of education, dropping out of school. He needed to know more.

"What happened?"

The other boy hesitated. "Well, maybe you should be hearing all of this from your dad…but I suppose I can…"

"Tell me." Freddie insisted, anxious to hear the details of this highly unlikely and uncharacteristic event.

"Alright then." Hugo conceded. "Well, at that time, Voldemort had returned and was building up followers, but the ministry was in denial and they sent a representative- Umbridge- to oversee Hogwarts. Evidently, she was horrible- spouting lies that the ministry wanted students to believe, giving inhumane detentions, introducing all of these educational decrees…your dad and Uncle Fred decided that they had had enough of her rubbish, so they set off a ton of Wild-Fire Wiz-bangs in the school and sent them to chase Umbridge and he accomplices…then they created an enchanted swamp in the front hallway, did a few victory laps around the great hall on their brooms, and triumphantly rode out of the school. My dad says it was brilliant- even my mum agrees, and she's not one to usually break the rules. The swamp is still there, evidently, along with a plaque describing the event. Like I said…they're pretty famous for it. I expect you'll be asked about it when people find out you're Uncle George's son."

Freddie stared at his cousin, his mouth open with shock. He didn't know what to say. He never could have imagined that his dad would partake in such a daring and defiant act- but, as he was quickly discovering, his dad had changed quite a bit during his years away.

There had been times when Freddie could almost see a glint of child-like mischief in his father's eyes- but it would always fade just as quickly as it had appeared- and Freddie would chide himself for having such frivolous thoughts. But maybe that glint was what was left of the old George- the one in Hugo's story. And maybe- just maybe- that George would slowly start to re-emerge, now that they were back where they belonged…

"You alright mate?" Hugo asked, concerned by his cousins dazed look.

"Yeah, fine. Shocked, but fine." Freddie muttered back, still trying to wrap his head around these new revelations. "So what happened to the shop they started? Did it close when dad and I left?"

Hugo laughed. "Hardly." He replied. "The family shut it down for a few weeks after you guys went away, but the customer demand was so high that they opened it up again a little later and have managed to keep it running ever since. It really is a family project now- my Dad and Uncle Percy have done the most work to keep it going- but everyone pitches in. Grandpa especially- I think he appreciates having something to do with his time, now that he's retired."

"That is so…awesome." Freddie whispered, his mind trying to imagine what the shop looked like. He was sure that it would surpass even his most elaborate fantasies. "So do they still sell firecrackers?" he asked, looking back down at the old box.

"Yeah…but not quite like this." Hugo replied. "These are classics- the same kind they let loose in the school- but the ministry decided that they were too showy and elaborate, and might attract the attention of muggles, so a smaller, tamer version was introduced. The new ones are still good…but not nearly as good as these."

Freddie felt a grin pulling at the side of his mouth- he was suddenly overcome with a burning urge to set off the entire box.

He was willing to bet it would be a display like no other.

"I went up to the attic to look for the old training quaffle we used to use, but I came across these instead, so I was thinking…" Hugo began, raising a red brow.

"That we should set them off tonight?" Freddie finished, smiling widely.

"Exactly." Hugo replied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bill, we need two more chairs- get them out of the kitchen, please. Quickly." The frantic voice of Molly Weasley echoed through the backyard of the Burrow, causing all present to smirk and shake their heads as they watched the family matriarch do her usual frenzied scramble.

They were all used to this routine by now.

Every time Molly hosted a diner or event, it was almost a guarantee that she should bustle around in a panic, calling out orders, and not taking a moment to relax until everything was absolutely perfect.

"Mum, really, this is all too much." George said, trying to keep up with his mother as brusquely walked back into the kitchen. "I mean, I know Freddie will appreciate the party, but we don't need this much food or fuss."

"Don't be silly, George." The woman replied, flicking her wand at a large pot of boiling potatoes. "I have waited years to celebrate Freddie's birthday, and I want everything to be just right."

Sighing, and knowing that any further arguing was futile, George decided to let her carry on. "Alright." He said. "Then at least let me help set up- what can I do?"

"The Birthday banner is in the living room." Molly replied, not looking up from her cooking. "Be a dear and hang it between the two large oak trees, will you?"

George nodded and flicked his wand, summoning the object into his outstretched arms. He couldn't deny that it was nice to be able to use magic again- he hadn't realized how much he had missed it.

As he walked back out into the yard, George wondered if his brothers would be up for a game of Quidditch after diner. He was exhausted, but the thought of circling the open field on his broom after all of these years would certainly be enough to keep him awake for several more hours.

Although he had gained an appreciation for muggle life during his time away, he was quickly coming to realize that magic was, as much as he had denied it, an integral part of him. He always had been, and always would be, a wizard…nothing could ever change that.

He had only been back for a few hours, but he already felt more alive then he had in years. He knew that this was where he belonged. In his world…and with his family.

"George, let me get that." Hermione said as he approached the centre of the yard, sign in hand. She muttered a quick spell, and the object quickly hung itself between the two trees, the words 'Happy Birthday Freddie" glinting in the setting sunlight.

"Not bad, if I may say so." Arthur commented, coming up beside George as he admired the sign. "I enchanted the letters myself- used new charm I picked up in a Quibbler article.

George smiled. "Looks good dad. Well done." Art was not his father's forte, and he was genuinely impressed by the very professional looking design.

"Thank you." Arthur replied, admiring his work for another moment before letting out a long sigh. "So…how are you holding up, son?" he asked, his tone suddenly more serious. "Big change from the muggle world, I suppose."

George nodded. "Yes." He replied. "But a good change." He paused and looked around the yard at the various family members who were helping set up for the party. "Definitely a good change."

"Glad to hear it." Arthur said quietly. "Its good to have you back. I just wish…" he trailed off, and a long silence hung in the air as the two men glanced off into the distance, both unsure of how to proceed.

After what felt like several minutes, Arthur finally spoke.

"This is a happy day." he said with a small but genuine smile. "No need to ruin it with serious talk, I think."

George nodded in agreement, knowing that there was still much that needed to be said…but also knowing that there would be much time in which to say it.

They could let it go for today, and simply enjoy the long-awaited reunion.

"Okay." He replied. "But I…I…I just want you to know that I'm sorry. For everything."

Nodding, Arthur gave him a reassuring clap on the back. "I know son. I know."

Satisfied, at least for the time being, George smiled and glanced around the yard to see if there was anything else that needed to be done.

The tables were out, and already creaking under the weight of the food Molly and Hermione were currently placing on it. The presents were piled high near one of the trees, and Fleur had just put the finishing touches on the fairly lights that were now lining the entire area. The only thing missing was…

"Freddie!" George exclaimed happily as he watched his son, awestruck at the sight of the yard, come out of the back door- Hugo close behind. The boy took a moment to observe his surrounding before turning to his father with wide blue eyes.

"All of this…for me?" he asked, his voice quiet with disbelief.

George grinned "You bet." He replied, clapping his son on the back. "Everyone is so happy to have you back, and they want to celebrate your birthday in style."

"But we just got here." Freddie noted, his eyes now fixed on the fairy lights in fascination. "I hardly know…"

"You're family, mate." Hugo cut in helpfully, grinning at his cousin. "It doesn't matter how long you've been here- you deserve a true Weasley birthday. Besides," Hugo paused, and turned to face Freddie. "You know it'll be fun…"

George noticed the two boys exchange a mischievous glance- one very similar to the kind he could remember sharing with his twin back when life had been simple and carefree. On a regular day, he probably would have questioned them, and kept an eye out for any potential wrong doing…but, he realized, today was special, and Freddie deserved the chance to be a kid and enjoy the night in any way he saw fit. Merlin knew he had been denied such pleasures for far too long already.

"Well, go on then." George said, unable to suppress his grin. "Take a seat at the table, I think dinner is about to begin." He paused and looked down at his son, instantly recognising that familiar glint in his eyes. "And Freddie…" he began again, unable to resist the urge to make one final comment. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Freddie smirked.

"Don't worry dad, I won't." 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N Well, its exam and essay season, so I haven't had much time to work on this (and I still technically don't) but I'm so close to the end and would really like to finish- review if you would like the grand finale!


	10. Where the Wave of Moonlight Glosses

"Mum, that was fantastic!" Ron exclaimed, leaning back in his chair hand giving his stomach a satisfied pat. "Haven't had a meal like that in ages."

Glaring, Hermione gave him a gentle slap on the arm, interrupting his moment of indulgent bliss. "What are you trying to say, Ronald? My cooking has improved dramatically over the years…I thought you said you loved my casserole last week."

"I did…that's not what I meant…I just…" Ron stuttered, trying to avoid a further scolding from his wife. "But mum's cooking…"

Everyone else laughed, amused by the youngest Weasley brother's attempt to reword his statement and appease his wife.

Hugo snorted and shook his head. "Nice going dad…" he muttered, taking another generous forkful of creamy mashed potatoes.

"It's alright Ron." Fleur cut in. "We understand what you meant. Even when I make ze finest French cuisine, Bill still claims zat nothing can beat his muzzers Yorkshire puddings." She paused and placed a loving hand on her husbands shoulder. "Nothing is better zen the comforts of your childhood 'ome."

"Exactly!" Ron agreed, thankful for his sister-in-laws input. "That's all I meant. I'm not trying to insult your cooking Hermione…"

His wife chuckled and shook her head. "You are forgiven." She said, giving him a playful peck on the cheek. "And I really must agree- the meal was fantastic Molly. Thank you so much."

George nodded.

Words could not describe the joy he had felt as he took his first bite of his mother's homemade bread that evening…not to mention her infamous roast beef and her unbeatable onion gravy. Memories of so many happy evenings spent around the Burrows kitchen table had come flooding back, and for the hundredth time that day, George wondered how he had ever left.

"Don't mention it dear." Molly said, smiling at the sight of her reunited family. "This is a very special day, and it deserves a very special meal."

She paused and turned to look over a Freddie who, at her insistence, had been given the seat of honour at the head of the table. "Speaking of special," she continued. "I think it is time for the birthday boy to start opening his presents."

The other guests indicated their agreement and, after taking a few final bites, all eyes turned to the newest eleven year old at the table.

Freddie's ears turned the characteristic Weasley shade of red as he shifted uncomfortably under everyone's gaze.

"Er…I guess…sure…" he mumbled, not sure how to proceed. For all he knew, opening birthday presents at a wizarding party was different from the way it was done by muggles. Unsure, he glanced at his dad, who nodded and pointed at the pile of gifts, indicating that he should go ahead and start unwrapping them just as he would have at any regular party.

Drawing a deep breath, Freddie got up from his seat and picked up the nearest package- it was large, heavy and wrapped in glittering blue paper.

"Ah, that's from us." Uncle Percy piped in from the other end of the table. He and Aunt Penelope smiled warmly as they watched the boy begin to unwrap the parcel.

"A cauldron!" Freddie exclaimed as he looked down into the open box in awe. It looked like something right out of a story book…he never, in a million years, would have imagined getting such an object for his birthday.

"Indeed." Percy said with a nod. "Best one on the market- I once did a report on cauldron thickness, and concluded that the Potions Master 500 is superior when it comes to all around durability and effectiveness. It should serve you well at Hogwarts."

Freddie exchanged a look with his dad, who was clearly amused by his brother's characteristic over analysis, and smiled. "Thanks Uncle Percy and Aunt Penelope- it's great!"

"Open this one next!" Lily exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and running over to hand Freddie a long red package.

Complying, Freddie set to work unwrapping the next item and could not help but gasp in awe as he opened the package to reveal a brand new broom with the words _Firebolt 350_ engraved on the side. He didn't know much about wizarding brooms, but he could tell by the well polished handle and sleek design that this probably one of the best models out there. The reaction of the other guest seemed to affirm that assumption.

"Wow- Harry, Ginny- you shouldn't have." George remarked, his eyes locked on the item in his sons hands. "Those things don't come cheep."

Harry and Ginny smiled, and Lily gave a similarly wide grin. "Don't worry about it George." Harry said, placing an arm around his wife shoulders. "It makes up for nine years of missed birthdays."

George nodded in appreciation, and grinned as he watched his son admire the broom in awe.

"It's brilliant! Thanks so much!" Freddie exclaimed, looking over at his aunt, uncle and cousin. "I can't wait to learn how to use it. I hope I'm not too horrible at it…"

Several of his family members chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about that." Uncle Ron replied. "You come from a family of notorious Quidditch fanatics – I'm sure you'll be a natural."

Freddie grinned and gingerly placed the broom beside him on the grass, suddenly wishing that he could save the rest of the presents for later and give it a go right now. But, he realized, it would be rude of him to ignore everyone else's generous gifts.

He carefully unwrapped the next box, and was intrigued to find an ornate gold chest inside.

"It's enchanted to only open for you." Uncle Bill explained. "It will keep anything safe and secure- it's almost like having your very own Gringotts vault."

Freddie was tempted to ask what exactly Gringotts was, but he decided that he could talk to his dad about that later. Instead, he simply thanked his aunt and uncle, and soon found another large parcel being placed in his hands.

This time, it was a large red ball (a quaffle, Hugo explained) from Uncle Charlie- along with a small dragon figurine which was enchanted to move around and shoot (thankfully) fake fire out of its mouth.

"Picked that up at the reserve tourist shop." Uncle Charlie said as the box held the object in his hand, watching it thrash its tail and flap its shimming wings. "Thought you might enjoy it."

"It's wicked." Freddie agreed, before adding. "What reserve?"

"The dragon reserve I work at." Charlie explained, chuckling as his nephews eyes widened in shock. "I used to work on one in Romania, but I've been stationed at the one in Wales for the past several years- its much closer to home, thankfully. I can take you by for a tour sometime, if your dad doesn't mind."

Freddie looked over at his dad, his heart beating excitedly at the thought of seeing real live dragons…

"Sure, that's fine with me." George answered, nodding at his second oldest brother. "Thanks Charlie."

"Anytime." The man replied.

Freddie beamed.

"Now," Uncle Ron interjected, snapping the boy's attention back to the task at hand. "I know you got part of our present already" he said, referring to the book and generous pile of candy Freddie had received the previous evening. "But we got you a little something extra."

Uncle Ron nodded at Hugo, who then got up to pass Freddie a lumpy orange package.

Still smiling, Freddie unwrapped it to reveal a copy of Quidditch through the ages, and a bright orange t-shirt with a large image of a speeding ball and two large C's.

"Hugo and I picked them out." Uncle Ron said proudly, ignoring his wife's exasperated sigh.

"The Chudley Cannons are the best Quidditch team." Hugo said enthusiastically, pointing down at the shirt. "They haven't won the cup in ages of course…but their time _will _come. I'm sure of it."

"Don't listen to them Freddie." George cut in with a smirk. "Puddlemore United is far superior…actually, every team is far superior."

Ron snorted. "Rubbish. You won't be saying that when the Cannons take home the cup this year- just you wait."

"Boys!" Molly exclaimed, glancing between her two youngest sons. "Is this really the time for this?"

"Sorry mum." The two men muttered, sounding more like embarrassed five year olds then full grown adults.

Molly nodded, and turned to give her grandson a warm smile. "It's just our presents left now." She said, picking up the two remaining boxes and handing them to Freddie. "I do hope you like them."

"I'm sure I will." The boy replied as he began unwrapping the first one.

"Not too exciting, I suppose." Arthur noted as the boy held up the brand new pair of black robes the box had contained. "But we figured you'd be needing them for school."

"It's great." Freddie said, genuinely pleased that he would have some non-muggle clothes to wear when he went shopping for school supplies. "Thanks."

His grandparents smiled, pleased by his positive response.

"Now, the last one is a bit out of season." His Grandmother said as the boy picked up the final present. "I usually save them for Christmas, but considering…well, I thought it would be alright to give it to you now."

Freddie tore back the paper, curious to find out what it contained. As he opened the box, he could see that whatever it was a blue and woolly- and as he held it up, he saw that it was, in fact, a large jumper with a golden letter 'F' incorporated into the front.

As he looked up to thank his grandmother, he was surprised to see that her eyes were now moist with tears- and that everyone else, most especially his father, had wistfully sad expressions of their faces.

"Its great, mum." George whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's been so long since I've seen…"

"I know." Molly replied, giving Freddie a watery smile as he looked back and forth between the jumper and his family in confusion. "It was hard to knit one like that after all of these years- but I wanted it to be special."

Noticing the boys confusion, Hermione leaned forward and began to explain why the gift had suddenly made the entire family so subdued.

"That's a Weasley jumper." She explained gently. "Your Grandmother makes one for every member of the family each Christmas. Everyone has their own colour and their initial on the front and that…" she trailed off and drew a deep breath. "That is what your Uncle Fred's jumper used to look like."

Freddie's eyes widened as realization struck. His grandmother hadn't made a jumper like this since his uncle had died- and it obviously meant something to those who remembered him to see the design remade after all of these years.

"Thanks Grandma, I love it." Freddie said quietly before pulling the jumper over his robes.

It fit perfectly.

He could see that there were now silent tears streaming down his Grandmothers face- getting up from his spot, he walked over and gave her a warm, reassuring hug. Rather then stopping her tears, however, this gesture seemed to make the sobs even worse- but, Freddie could tell, there was just as much happiness in her eyes as there was sorrow.

"It's wonderful to have you back, Fred." She said tearfully as she returned his embrace. "Don't ever leave us again."

The boy smiled, and nodded into her shoulder. 

"I won't." he replied. "I'm finally home…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Half an hour later, once the remains of dinner had been swept away and the birthday cake had been eaten, the full and satisfied members of the Weasley family sat talking in the back yard- reminiscing about old times, and catching up on the latest events.

"So, did you have all of the regular muggle gadgets?" Bill asked curiously, looking over at George. "I mean like a toaster, and light bulbs, and one of those fellyvision things."

George laughed at his brother's pronunciation. "It's called a television. And yes, we had all of that stuff."

"He managed to make it look like a real muggle house." Ron added with a nod. "I thought I was in the wrong place when I first arrived- I never would have thought that George- the man who used to apparate everywhere and couldn't go more then five minutes without using a spell- would ever be able to pull it off. You should see the elecktrick kettle he has- brilliant!"

The second youngest brother shook his head. "Thanks Ron." He began sarcastically. "It's nice to know that you have so much faith in my muggle intelligence. I _can_ read you know- I picked up a few books and learnt fairly quickly."

"I'm sure you did, George." Hermione agreed, shooting an exasperated look at her husband. "Muggle-born witches and wizards get used to the wizarding world quickly- there is no reason why it shouldn't work the other way around."

Missing his wife's glance, Ron continued. "Yeah, but this _George_ we're talking about. He used to apparate down for breakfast for Merlin's sake- I can't picture him living any other way."

Ginny and Bill nodded in agreement- obviously agreeing with Ron's observation.

"Well, believe it." George said smugly. "It wasn't easy at first, but I pulled it off. None of my neighbours came by and tried to burn me at the stake, so I was obviously doing something right."

"So how do felly…err, I mean, televisions work then." Bill asked, perplexed. "I've always wondered."

Hermione rolled her eyes again, but the three Weasley siblings present all turned to George, awaiting an explanation.

"Err, I don't really know." George confessed. "Most muggles don't know how their technology works- you have to be really good at muggle science to understand most of the time. It has something to do with cable wires and electricity. I do know how to work it though. You just turn it on, and use a remote to change the channels. It's kind of like the wizarding wireless, but with pictures."

"Neat." Ginny said, her tone suggesting that she still didn't really understand.

George smiled; strangely satisfied by the fact that he now knew more then any of his siblings about the complexities of muggle life. Sure, Hermione was probably still more of an expert then he was- but for a member of an old pureblood family, he now knew quite a bit.

"I'm sure dad will want to hear all about it." Bill chuckled, glancing over to the garden bench where their parents now sat chatting with Harry, Fleur and Charlie.

George chuckled too. "Undoubtedly." He paused before remembering a question he had been meaning to ask. "In all of the excitement, I almost forgot," he began. "What happened to the shop after I left? Did you sell it?"

The other four exchanged glances.

"Sell the shop?" Ron repeated, shocked by such a thought. "We could never sell it!"

Bill nodded in agreement. "The idea never even crossed out minds." He noted, smiling at George. "It reminded us so much of you…and Fred…that we couldn't even conceive of letting it go."

George felt a grin tugging at the side of his mouth. Despite the painful memories it sometimes evoked, knowing that it was still there- and this his family had cared enough to keep it going- filled him with an immense feeling of happiness.

"So, who runs it then?" He asked, looking over at his siblings.

They exchanged another look before Bill continued to speak. "Percy, mostly." He replied, amused by the look of shock on his brothers face. "At first we all pitched in equally, and Ron quit his job for a bit to work there full time- but then Percy finally got fed up with the ministry and decided to take up most of the shop work himself instead. He's good at paperwork, as you well know- so he's kept track of the finances magnificently well."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "And he has even- quite shockingly- come up with a few new, and very successful products. Although he claims they are not really his ideas- and that he was inspired by all of the pranks you and Fred used to play on him…but still…"

George stared at Ginny, his mouth still open in shock. He didn't know what to say- of all the possible answers he had been expecting; this had certainly not been it.

Serious, rule following, by-the-book Percy…running the joke shop!?

He never would have guessed…

"That's…that's…amazing!" George stuttered, glancing around the yard and hoping to catch sight of the man in question. "I'm shocked."

"We were too." Hermione agreed. "But I suppose it sort of makes sense- he _was_ the target of most of your pranks- so who better to recreate them for the shop?"

George nodded, feeling a strange combination of joy and guilt building up inside of him.

A moment later, he spotted Percy coming out of the kitchen, and he quickly excused himself from the group- anxious to confront his brother about this new revelation.

"Perce!" he called out as he jogged across the yard. "Perce, wait, we need to talk!"

Surprised, Percy turned around, smiling warmly at his younger brother.

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed.

Instead of answering, George drew his brother into a tight hug, too overcome with confusion and emotion to verbally express his gratitude. After a few moments and several deep breaths, George drew back and beamed up at the taller wizard.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you." He whispered, grinning from ear to ear. "And I am so sorry for everything Fred and I ever did to you- we never should have…"

Percy shook his head and smiled, finally beginning to realize that this was about. "Don't worry George." He replied. "We were kids- and, let's face it- I was a git a lot of the time. I should be thanking you for bringing me down a few notches and making me remember who I was."

"No," George began again. "You're the one that deserves the thanks. You kept the shop running…" he paused, trying to ignore the lump that was building in his throat. "And you kept Fred's memory alive. After all that we did to you, I never would have expected…"

Smiling, Percy clapped his brother on the shoulder. "I refused to let anything happen to it." he said with a sad smile. "After I failed to…to…save Fred…I felt that it was the least I could do."

George looked down at the grass, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He knew that Percy had felt guilty ever since the night of the battle- he had been next to Fred when it had happened, and he had always felt that he could have done more…or taken the blast instead. George had, admittedly, entrained similar thoughts during his darkest hours…but he knew that it was all absurd. No one could have stopped such a horrible tragedy, and he had never blamed Percy for what had occurred.

"It wasn't your fault, Perce. Please don't blame yourself…" George whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. "And…I know I was never good at expressing it, but you've always meant a lot to me- and to Fred. You were our big brother, and you looked out for us. We never should have teased you the way we did…I'm sorry- and I'm sure if Fred was here, he would be sorry too. Despite what our actions may have suggested, we always loved you."

Percy gave him a watery smile. "Thanks George, it's good to hear that." He replied quietly. "The shop is just how you left it- with a few minor additions, of course. You're welcome to start running it again, whenever you're ready. Just let me know."

"_We'll_ run it- together." George stated, grinning more genuinely then he had in years. "It's a family venture, after all, and two Weasley's are better then one."

Percy grinned back, clearly thrilled at the prospect of co-management with his brother. The two had never really seen eye to eye on everything- but life had changed them, and the both knew that- somehow- this new arrangement would work.

"Thanks, George." Percy replied. "I can't wait to show you some of the new products…I can take you and Freddie by tomorrow, if you want."

"That would be great." George agreed, taking a glance around the dimly lit yard. "Speaking of- have you seen Freddie recently? He and Hugo left after they finished their cake, and I've just realized that I haven't seen them since."

Percy shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't, maybe…"

But before he could finish his sentence, a loud BANG echoed through the garden, and both instantly knew what Freddie had been up too…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_A few minutes earlier…_

Hugo glanced nervously around the corner, before gesturing for Freddie to follow him into the living room.

"They're all still outside." He whispered, glancing back at his cousin and the large box of Wild-Fire Wiz-Bangs.

The two had snuck back into the house after eating generous servings of cake, discussed the details of their plan, and were currently trying to make a quick, undetected exit to the side garden.

"Should we go out the front door?" Freddie asked nervously, worried that one of the many adults would catch them before they managed to set off the enchanted firecrackers.

Hugo nodded, and the two crept down the hallway and outside as quickly and quietly as possible.

Aside from a stray garden gnome, no one seemed to be in the front yard and the boys managed to make a stealthy trek to their desired location. Once hidden behind a large and unkempt bush, Freddie and Hugo began to pull the Wiz-Bangs out of the box, and line them up several meters away from the side of the house.

Silently, Freddie worked on clearing away any branches that obstructed their path, and Hugo wove a long piece of flammable string around the line of firecrackers.

Once they had finished their work, the boy's exchanged an excited glance, both eager (and slightly worried) to see how the others would enjoy their little show.

"Ready?" Hugo whispered and he began to walk down the cleared path towards the back yard, the string trailing behind him.

Freddie nodded in confirmation, and watched as Hugo pulled out the wand they had swiped from a shelf in the living room earlier that evening and attempted to set the string on fire, thus igniting the hidden Wiz-Bangs. Much to their frustration, however, Hugo had no success.

"Do you think Grandma and Grandpa have matches in their house?" Freddie asked. "Or maybe a lighter?"

"I'm pretty sure they don't." Hugo whispered back. "Magical households don't tend to have muggle supplies. They use their wands to light fires."

Freddie sighed and looked dejectedly down at the wand in his cousin's hand. "Well…then why don't I give the wand a try?" he asked. "As long as you're sure we can't get kicked out of Hogwarts for it…"

Hugo shook his head and handed over the wand. "I'm sure- the underage magic regulations only kick in once you start school. Before that, any display of magic is assumed to be accidental." He paused for moment before adding. "Point it at the string and try to picture fire coming out of it. It should work…although not all wands work for all wizards, so that may be our problem. If this fails, we can try to nick my Dads wand- it always works for me."

Freddie drew a deep breath and tried to follow his cousin's instructions.

For several moments, nothing happened, and he was about to give up when a bright flash issued from the tip of the wand, lighting the end of the string.

Grinning, the two boys stayed in their spot for another second to ensure that the flame did, in fact, begin to make its way towards the Wiz-Bangs before bolting off into the backyard, their cheeks flushed with excitement and their eyes sparking with mischief.

"What are you boys up to?" Their grandmother asked upon seeing their sudden entrance. "I do hope…"

But before she could finish, a loud BANG rang out across the yard and all present turned to see the first of the Wiz-Bangs soaring up into the air.

The red, glittering flash climbed higher and higher until it finally burst into a thousand smaller lights and reformed into the shape of a magnificent, glowing dragon. Freddie watched in awe as the creature opened its jaws and let out a triumphant roar…

It was just as he had expected- these were unlike any muggle fireworks he had ever seen.

The red dragon was soon joined by a yellow one, and then a blue…and the three laced through the air, putting on an impressive show for the stunned observers.

Freddie and Hugo exchanged a wide grin, both impressed by their ability to pull off their scheme without detection. It certainly seemed like they would have a long and prosperous career ahead of them.

"Hugo Weasley!" A voice exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the loud bangs of the firecrackers bursting above them. "Explain yourself this instant!"

Hugo cringed, and Freddie glanced back to see Aunt Hermione marching towards them. He would have been tempted to run had Uncle Ron not reached out and restrained her. He couldn't tell what Ron had said, but whatever it was seemed to subdue her- at least temporarily.

Looking to his other side, he could see that his father and Uncle Percy were watching the display with amusement, and he was fairly certain that he would not be faced with a stern lecture when this was over.

After all, his dad had said not to do anything _he_ wouldn't do…and Freddie had certainly followed those instructions. His dad couldn't blame him for doing something he himself had done (and invented…) in his youth.

Freddie smiled again as he watched a giant red lion soar through the air, pouncing on a glittering green snake before the two dissolved in one final glorious flash of light. The sky was bright with a rainbow of colours, and as he looked back down at those around them, he could see their content faces illuminated by the magical display.

He jumped slightly as someone approached from behind and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder- but he was relieved to see that it was only his dad.

"So," George began, grinning down at his son. "I see you found some of our old firecrackers."

Freddie nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "Yeah…I hope you don't mind…we thought…"

"I don't mind at all." George replied, still smiling. "It's great to see some of the old products at work again. Reminds me of old times…"

The boy chuckled, glancing back at the sky for a moment as a giant yellow 'W' formed in the air. "I heard about how you and Uncle Fred left school." He said, his eyes sparkling in the reflection of the lights.

George laughed and ruffled his sons flaming red hair. "Well… don't go getting any ideas." He began, trying- unsuccessfully- to sound stern. "I'm hardly a good role model."

The boy shook his head and looked up at his father. "That's not true, dad." He said with a wide grin. "You're a great role model - the best."

George laughed again and knelt down on the grass next to his son- looking the boy straight in the eye. "I'm glad you think so." He began, placing a gentle hand on the boys shoulder. "And I have to say, if you and your cousins do get up to some good old fashioned Weasley pranks while you're away, it would be rather hypocritical of me to scold you too much." He paused and gave a brief glance behind him. "Just make sure you don't hurt yourself- and those you care about."

Freddie nodded, and was about to reply when he noticed his that his dad was now staring down at the wand he had used to set off the Wiz-Bangs. For a moment, he worried that he was going to get in trouble for stealing the object from the case on the living room bookshelf…but the even wider smile on his father face soon told him otherwise.

"Did you use that wand to set this off?" George asked, gesturing up at the bright fireworks that were still glittering and dancing in the sky.

"Yeah." Freddie began reluctantly. "Hugo and I found it on the bookshelf. When he tried to do it, it didn't work- but then I tired and it did." He paused before adding. "I guess I really am a Wizard, eh?"

"Undoubtedly." George replied, reaching out to brush his fingers against the familiar old wand.

"Whose wand is it?" Freddie asked, curious to find out why his father was suddenly so mesmerised by it. "We weren't sure, and I'm sorry if we…"

"It was Fred's." George cut in, looking back up to meet his son's eyes.

The boy's mouth opened in surprise.

That had not been the answer he was expecting.

"It's identical to mine." George continued, beaming with pride. "And, it seems, it has chosen you as its next owner."

"Me?" Freddie squeaked, now looking at the wand in an entirely different light. He felt honoured to be able to use an object that had once belonged to his Uncle…his father's twin. "How do you know?"

"The wand chooses the wizard." George replied with a nod. "And if it worked for you- without ay training- then it must be yours." He paused and drew his son into a tight embrace. "Use it well, Freddie." He whispered before finally pulling back. "Make me and Fred proud."

"I…I'll try." The boy replied, wondering if he could ever live up to such a reputation…

But, he reminded himself, he was finally home- surrounded by the people who loved him most- and he knew that whatever he did in life, and where ever he chose to go, he would always have the support of those around him.

"You will." George replied with a warm smile. "You already have."

And with that, father and son looked back up into the night sky and watched as the final Wiz-Bang exploded in a dramatic display of lights.

The glittering red sparks danced around the inky blackness until finally falling into formation and displaying a familiar message for all to see…

_Mischief managed. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

THE END.

A/N Wow, my first ever completed multi-chapter story! I'm so proud :) Please tell me what you thought. I would consider doing a sequel- I had so much fun with this.

Thank you all for your reviews! I appreciate the response. You're all fantastic!

Happy Christmas!


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